


Desert Prince

by DarkDianora



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDianora/pseuds/DarkDianora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The American citizen Adam Lambert, who works as an entertainer on a cruise ship, is abducted and lands in the harem of an inexperienced prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been posting this anonymously to the glam kink meme community in answer to this prompt by valress:  
> "I have a hankering for a slave fic... Adam/Tommy or Tommy/Kris(my other OTP)maybe not so much a slave fic... as a concubine!fic... would prefer Top!Tommy... but TBH I will take what ever the muses give us... :D Thank you very much!"

Slowly, but surely, Adam was going crazy.  He was crouching on the spartan bed, hugging his knees, but he couldn’t stop shivering.  It wasn’t really cold in his cell, just not exactly warm enough, either.  The mattress was too thin to be comfortable, and there were neither pillows nor a blanket.  Three times per day a tray with food appeared in a slot in the wall.  Mostly it was some sort of thick sloppy soup, always bland and never warm.  Sometimes it was just bread and water for days.  Never anything fresh.  Never cutlery.  The latter seemed like such a random kind of cruelty, and it added to his feelings of absolute helplessness.

Every day started exactly the same: The lights went on and then the shower would run automatically for a few minutes, the stream of water always too weak, and the temperature tepid at best.  Worse yet was the fact that there was only soap to wash with.  Judging by the marks he’d carved with his fingernails into the plaster of the walls, he’d been captive for five weeks now.  Five weeks.  That meant 35 days without shampoo and conditioner.  His hair felt like it belonged on a broom, rather than on a head.  Thankfully there was no mirror.  If his skin looked as chalky as it felt, he didn’t want to know it.

Once a week, a clean garment appeared together with the food.  By that time the old one smelled quite ripe, so he put it into the food slot together with the dirty dishes.  From the feel and look of them these shift-like garments seemed to be made of a special kind of cotton with an exceptionally low thread count.  They were also rather shapeless, hanging down from his shoulders to his knees, and BEIGE.  Add sandals and a camel hair girdle and he’d look like a prophet after forty days in the desert.  The scratchy beard that was covering about half of his face by now and more often than not had soup sticking to it, probably fit the picture perfectly.

But there were no visions, no revelations coming to him in this bare, windowless cell.  Because that he hated boredom and couldn’t deal with at all, well, that was something he – and everyone around him – had known since he was one year old.

The first days after he’d been kidnapped, he’d been in a complete panic.  He’d wracked his head, wondering who had kidnapped him and brought him to this place, wondering if he had done something to bring this on, but he had come up empty.  He had been working on that cruise ship for the second time already, had even been to that club in Luxor before, on his night off, when the passengers were away on their two-day-trip to Gizeh.

Unlike the first time though, this time, when he’d left the club at three in the morning, someone had been waiting for him by the exit.  He only remembered a dark voice saying “Hey, pretty boy!” before something moist with a medicinal smell was pressed into his face, and then nothing.

He’d woken up in this cell, shaky and confused at first, and then terrified of what might happen to him.  Now, though, after weeks of waiting, what he feared most was being caught in this kind of limbo forever, and in a way that was even worse.  Sometimes he felt himself merging with the blandness around him, crouching there, staring at the white walls until they were creeping with grayish swirls and closing in around him, and then he choked on his own breath and hugged himself tightly, his chipped nails digging deep into the flesh of his arms.

 

~~~~~

 

He was cowering like that, in a corner of his cell, when the lights went on one day, and then for the first time in weeks, he heard steps approaching.  Through the bars he could see a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, slightly build, with brown hair and dark brown eyes that had an oriental slant to them.  He was clad in loose turquoise pants and a silver vest with golden embroidery, and barefoot, so beautiful to look at, a banquet for the eyes after weeks of deprivation.  Adam wanted to rip those clothes off the boy’s body, and only the bars and the realization that they wouldn’t fit him held him back.

“You are to be presented to the Sultan,” the boy announced.  “Please follow me.”

Just like that, the middle part of the bars moved smoothly sideways and the cell was open.  The boy turned around and began to walk back down the narrow aisle.  “Come on!” he called back, when Adam, still stunned, failed to move.

Scrambling to his feet, Adam hurried to follow him, trying to get a grip on himself and his shaking knees.  Silently and swiftly they made their way through a maze of corridors until they reached a bigger hallway.  From there, an ancient looking elevator took them up at least three floors, into a hall buzzing with activity.

There were mostly boys like the one that was guiding him, but also three other men clad in shifts, all of them of slight build and very beautiful.  Five corridors went off that hall, but no doors that might lead outside and not a single window.

“Don’t even think of running,” the boy said suddenly, as they were weaving their way through the chaos, “you wouldn’t succeed anyway, and then you’d have to be punished.  Believe me, you don’t want that.”

He stopped in front of a green double door with the golden emblem of an eagle on it and knocked.  A giant of a man opened and waved them in.

“Good morning, Baba,” said the boy.  “This is the Luxor guy.  He needs to be made presentable.  I’ve booked Shahin for him.”

The big man smiled.  “Good morning, Yasin.  Shahin waits in chamber two.”  Then, with a critical look at Adam, he added, “Guess it’s good he loves a challenge.  This one looks like hard work.”

Five weeks of frustration exploded in Adam’s chest.  “At least, with me, there’s something to work with, Bubba,” he taunted, poking the giant’s substantial paunch, “whereas with you, there’d be no hope whatsoever.”

“Do you have a death wish?” the boy Yasin hissed, trying to drag Adam away from the giant.  “He’s the overseer of the whole harem!  If you end up on his bad side things might get very ugly for you!”

Adam was about to tell them where they could shove their fucking harem, when the giant stepped up to them, towering over him.  Wisely, Adam shut up.

The giant smiled.  “You’re feisty,” he said.  “The Sultan may like that.  But he also may have the skin whipped off your back for it.  Better be careful.  Me, I have got a sense of humor, so don’t be worried on my account.”  He grinned and smacked Adam’s face in a – for him probably friendly – way.  It smarted like hell, but a look in the guy’s eyes told Adam that he had gotten off lightly.

“Come on,” said Yasin, pulling at Adam’s coarse shift, “let’s not keep Shahin waiting.  He’s very much sought after.”

He led Adam to a door with a golden number two on it and knocked.  A beautiful young man, tanned, with slanted blue eyes and feathery, pink-dyed hair opened the door, greeting them with a deep bow.

“I’m Shahin,” he introduced himself, checking Adam out with his gaze.  “I’m going to make you look smashing for tonight.”  He stepped closer, extending one hand to carefully card through Adam’s strawy hair.  “Oh, my,” he said, seemingly appalled.

“Yeah, I know,” Adam drawled, rolling his eyes, “it’s going to be hard work.”

And it was.  Hot baths, cold gushes, body peelings with a kind of rough stones, depilation with hot wax, a massage with fragrant oils, manicure, pedicure; the god-awful beard was shaved off and his eyebrows put back in shape.  After two peelings and a calming mask, his face felt soft like a baby’s.  His hair was finally back to black and sleek like silk, due to treatments with dye and several kinds of conditioner.  Clearly, Shahin knew his stuff.  Adam felt he could relax.

In between, there were strong black mocha and buttery, flaky croissants, accompanied by a variety of fresh fruits, then, as it got later, small shish kebabs with grapes on couscous.  Sometime during the day, Adam’s brain had shut down and now he was feeling absolutely boneless.

His bliss lasted until Yasin appeared before him, holding a kind of yellow hula skirt for Adam to dress in.

"No way,” Adam said.  “That’s so not my color.  Also, this cut is going to make me look fat.”

Yasin frowned.  “But it’s the standard issue.  All the prisoners…”

“I’m not ‘all the prisoners’.  And I’m certainly not ‘standard’!” Adam stated.  Turning to Shahin, he appealed, “Please, you must help me.  If I wear that abomination, all your hard work will have been for nothing.”

"You know, he’s right,” said Shahin.  “His stature is all wrong for it.  He would look ridiculous.  He needs something different, something to accentuate his assets, not hide them.”

“My ass, you mean,” agreed Adam, nodding.  “I definitely need pants, and then a vest like yours.  Also, some jewelry would be nice.”

Shahin shook his head.  “You don’t have any jewels yet.  If you make it into the harem, they’ll be bestowed upon you by the Sultan, as a sign of his special favor.  But there are men in here that never managed as much as a single earring.”

Adam frowned, suddenly pensive.  “Make it into the harem?  Do I even want that?  It sounds like I never will get out of it, once I’m in.  Oh, shit!  I won’t, will I?  I’ll never be free again!”

Adam’s voice had gotten louder and louder, and he backed away from Shahin and Yasin, who both came after him, trying to grab a hold of him.  He made for the door, but just as he reached it, somebody pushed it open and, with it, Adam back into the room.

It was Baba, the giant overseer.  “What’s the matter?” he asked, drawing one thin eyebrow up.

“Just a little crise de nerves,” answered Shahin.  “We can handle it, I think.”

“Well, if he gives you trouble, just call me.  One or two kisses of my snake” – Baba patted his side, where Adam realized hung a cruel-looking horsewhip – “will tame even this tiger.”  He stood there, unmoving like a mountain, his eyes never leaving Adam’s face.

“Better don’t anger Baba,” Yasin said to Adam.  “He’s good with that whip – it’s his one true love.  He can hit a fly on a lily with it, and never disturb even one petal.  I’ve also seen him circumcise a slave with that thing, during one of the Sultan’s entertainments, only there was quite a bit of pain involved.”

With that picture in his mind, Adam suddenly felt faint.  He sat down on the massage bank heavily, hiding his face in his hands.  “So what am I going to do?” he bit out.  “Entice the Sultan, so I become his favorite plaything?”

“That would indeed be the best option,” said Shahin.  “Because if he doesn’t accept you tonight, you will be sold on to some Russian billionaire, and believe me, to them you would be less than a piece of meat.  Anything’s better than that.  Though the Sultan already has a favorite he’s very fond of.  But you could well be his second favorite, if all goes well.”

Adam shuddered.  Second favorite?  Captive in a harem, fighting against other concubines for the questionable attentions of a man he probably would hate?  He couldn’t accept that that was to be his fate.  For a while he sat silent, trying to come to terms with it, and failing for the most part.  After a while he managed to get himself together, though.  Survive today, he told himself.  You can worry about tomorrow when it’s there.

“So, adornments,” he said abruptly, his voice matter-of-fact.  “If there’s no jewels in this joint, how about body painting? Golden lacquer on my nipples, glitter on my cheekbones…”

Shahin clapped his hands excitedly.  “Great idea!  That’s going to look awesome on you!  You know, if the Sultan doesn’t like you, and the Russians go broke, you could always work as my assistant!”

In the end, the result exceeded everyone’s expectations.  Shahin had found loose pants for Adam to wear, much like Yasin’s, made of cool black silk with silver embroidery, and a matching vest.  When Adam regarded himself in the mirror he thought he really looked like an exotic creature right out of the “Thousand Nights”, dark, delicious and mysterious.  Shahin again clapped his hands with delight, and even Baba, who had been called back in to admire Adam, nodded his approval.

“I hope you behave tonight,” he murmured into Adam’s ear.  “It would be a shame to flay that lovely skin of yours open.”

Adam shivered.  Despite all the excitement going on around him, there was still that small leaden ball of dread in his stomach, and his hands were clammy with nerves.  When Yasin offered him more coffee and baklava, he declined and just took a sip of water, too wound up for anything else.

Yasin had primed him as to proper behavior around the Sultan.  “Eyes always down.  At my finger snip, fall down onto your knees - gracefully!  Never ever look into the Sultan’s eyes!  Be silent, speak only when spoken to, and then quietly, in a soft, pleasing voice.  When the Sultan’s done with you, crawl backwards at least three steps, before getting on your feet.  Whatever happens, thank him for his generosity!  And again, don’t look into his eyes!”  His head was ringing with it.

 

~~~~~

 

Only, after they had been waiting for what seemed like hours in the back of the huge throne room, all the admonitions were like a constant rushing of white noise in Adam’s ears.  Of course he had looked up, several times in fact.  The room’s interior had even left him slack-jawed for a bit.  A polished black marble floor, gold-framed mirrors and paintings showing proud Bedouins on Arabian horses, heavy crystal chandeliers - it was impressive in a whack-you-on-the head way.  On a dais at the other end of the room, he could make out a broad-shouldered figure on a throne, and dark eyes on a face that was half hidden behind a huge dark moustache.  Yuck.

On the Sultan’s right side stood another, smaller throne, on it, half reclining, a smaller man, with blond hair and a fairer complexion.  “The Sultan’s son, Prince Thomas,” Yasin explained.  “Don’t look into his eyes, either.”

When it finally was their turn, Adam was so far gone that Yasin had to tug at his arm twice to get him going.  At least he managed to keep his gaze lowered the whole time, and then he already heard Yasin’s finger snip and he immediately fell to his knees.  Not as gracefully as he had hoped, but at least not smashing his kneecaps either.  Slightly from the left, there was the derisive click of a tongue to be heard.  Instinctively Adam looked up, scowling.

His eyes fell on the prince and stayed there, captivated.  Because Prince Thomas was drop-dead gorgeous, with a slender, delicate frame and a face that was stunningly beautiful despite its current expression of disapproval.  He had perfect lips, very expressive bedroom eyes and hair that had been combed back but was already escaping the rather severe style.  Sweet as a cupcake and exactly Adam’s type.  Adam couldn’t help it, he winked at him.  The prince’s frown deepened even as a blush started to rise in his face.

The Sultan cleared his throat.  Instead of lowering his eyes, Adam looked over at him and kept his gaze there defiantly.  Forget that ‘Behave!’ rubbish.  He wanted to see the person who was about to decide his fate.

The first impression he got from the Sultan was one of darkness.  The man’s skin was a deep brown, his eyes as well as the heavy eyebrows of a deep black.  Together with the long, black hair and mustache, he looked sinister, almost like a movie villain.  But this man was no actor.  There was an aura of cold authority about him which rang every alarm bell in Adam’s head.  The man reminded him of a cobra, coiled up, seemingly frozen, but ready to strike.  This was an absolute monarch, a tyrant who ruled with an iron fist, and he absolutely looked the part.  It was rather fear-inducing.  But Adam refused to be intimidated.  If there was one thing he hadn’t in him, it was submission.

“What are you doing?  Look down!” Yasin hissed desperately, prodding him with his foot.

“Forget it!” Adam whispered back, right into the ominous silence that was descending upon the throne room.

The Sultan cleared his throat again.  Long seconds passed.  It was hard not to fidget, even harder not to lower his gaze or look back at the prince again.  Adam hung on by the skin of his teeth.

“You are either very brave or very foolish,” the Sultan stated, breaking the heavy silence.  “Explain yourself, prisoner!”

Adam took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to his mind.  “I can’t be in your harem.  We would kill each other within the first week.”

Following that statement, shouts of ‘blasphemy’ could be heard in the throne room.

“Silence!” boomed the Sultan’s voice.  When the ruckus died down, he continued more quietly, his eyes narrowed.  “You probably mean I would kill you within the first week.  I can see why that would worry you.  But why do you believe that?”

“I’m not nearly subservient enough to suit you,” Adam explained, having the whole room erupting again behind him.  At his side, Yasin fell to his knees, imploring him under his breath to please, finally, shut up.

“On your feet, both of you!” the Sultan ordered.  Then he beckoned his son over to stand beside him.

“What do you think, Thomas?” he queried.  “What should we do with him?”

The prince rose languidly from his throne.  As he stood, Adam could see how willowy he was, and how slender his build.  His lavish robes made him seem like a harem boy rather than a royal prince.  The only thing that didn’t fit the picture was the arrogant glance he slanted at Adam as he sauntered over.  Slowly the prince circled him, touching his arm, stroking down his back before at last, having completed a full circle, he reached under Adam’s vest to twist a painted nipple.

Adam growled.  Surprisingly, the prince flinched.  Retracting his hand he took a hasty step back.  It was only for a second, but Adam thought he even saw something like fear in the other man’s eyes.  And something else, though Adam couldn’t pin it down right then.  Still, he was intrigued.

The prince recouped fast.  His beautiful, light-brown eyes were locked with Adam’s when he stated coldly, “While this slave’s body may be passable, his attitude clearly isn’t.  He needs to be punished for his insolence.”  From the way he spoke, it seemed he couldn’t care less.  It made Adam’s stomach clench with anger and foreboding.

“Even if he’s right?” murmured the Sultan, in a deceptively mild tone.

The prince shrugged imperiously.  “He is merely a prisoner, a nothing – you are the Sultan.  So he can’t be right, can he?  Have him castrated and send him to the salt mines of Tarra.”

At that, Adam nearly growled again.  His eyes narrowed at the cute toy boy in front of him, his hands itching to slap that smirk of his face.  Yasin’s elbow in his ribs stopped him, though, and he put firmer reigns on his temper.  With a last glare at the prince, he directed his gaze back at the Sultan.

“How delightful.  He’s certainly not boring,” the Sultan stated, continuing, “Alas, the last thing I need after a hard day’s work is more fighting in the bedroom.  I want to relax and enjoy.  This slave doesn’t suit me.”

He paused, while Adam’s mind presented him with pictures of himself, chained naked in Siberian snow, or stretched out on a wooden table, red-glowing pliers coming ever closer.  He shook himself out of it.  No use getting lost in dark daydreams.  If he wanted to come out of this alive and in one piece, he needed his wits about him, scarce as they were.  Damn, Yasin was right.  Why the hell hadn’t he just shut up?

The Sultan was addressing his son now.  “You however, Thomas, could use a challenge in your life.  I therefore declare the following: This slave shall be the first member of Prince Thomas’ harem.  Thomas, you will present him at court again in four weeks’ time to show his progress and so demonstrate your aptitude as my heir.  This is my will.  The reception is closed.”

With that, the Sultan stepped from his throne and left the room through his personal gate, followed by his entourage.  The court was leaving through the gilded double doors, which left Yasin and Adam with the prince.

The young man seemed dismayed by the turn of events.  “There goes my freedom,” he muttered, eyeing the other two darkly.  “Couldn’t you just have shut up?”

Another elbow jab from Yasin stopped Adam from answering that.  Instead, he finally lowered his gaze, about fifteen minutes too late.

The prince waved a dainty hand at Yasin.  “Bring him to my chambers.  I will deal with him later.”  The servant bowed deeply.  “Yes, my prince.”

Adam had never before been that glad to be dragged out of a room.  Just at the doors, he turned around.  The prince was still standing there, gazing at them, a slender, graceful figure.  In spite of all the splendor of his garments he seemed strangely out of place.

Cocky from too much adrenalin, Adam executed an exaggerated bow toward the other man, yelling across the room, “Oops, I almost forgot!  Thank you for your generosity, my prince!”

Then he swung around and dashed after a groaning Yasin.  Outside, when the door had fallen shut behind them, he stopped, biting his lips.  He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, but then his nerves got the better of him.  With trembling knees he sank back against the door.  “Shit,” he muttered, looking up at Yasin.  “Was that very stupid of me?”

The boy stemmed his fists in his waist.  “Unbelievably so, you idiot!  You could have gotten us both killed with your insolence!  You’re lucky you’re still alive and unharmed!  For now, anyway.  There’s no telling what the prince may do to you.  Though I’ve never heard anything about him being especially cruel, unlike…”  He interrupted himself, casting nervous glances around the hallway.  They were alone, though, nobody was to be seen.

“Well, come on now,” he said in the end, shaking his head, “there’s lots to do before tonight.”

Slowly, Adam got up and followed him.  It had been a long day, and it seemed it was far from over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warning for this chapter: spanking.

"This looks like a bordello,” Adam stated ten minutes later, after they had made their way through another labyrinthine maze of hallways into the prince’s chambers.  “Like an overdone bordello, to be precise.  I think I might be going blind.  This guy doesn’t need a harem, he needs an interior designer.”  He shook his head.  “I never would have believed that there could be a thing like too much glitter!  This really makes my head hurt!”

“Stop complaining,” Yasin said.  “These are just the public rooms.  They reflect the prince’s status.”

Adam winced.  “They reflect a completely tasteless color scheme, you mean.  Better show me the private rooms; I don’t think I can stay here for another minute.”

Yasin gave him another of those looks.  “Enter the prince’s private rooms, just like that?  Let’s not lose our heads, okay?”

“I hope you don’t mean that literally,” Adam quipped.

Yasin regarded him curiously.  “How else would I mean it?  You can’t just waltz into the crown prince’s private apartments!  I’ll ring for his personal servant.  Adjani will know what to do.”

He pulled an ornate rope that was fastened in one of the room’s corners.  In the distance, a faint ringing could be heard.  They waited for a while, but nothing else happened.

“Adjani’s always very busy.  Better let’s sit down; it may take him a while to come to us,” the boy explained.

‘Yeah, probably the poor guy’s needed to wipe the toy boy’s ass,’ Adam thought, letting himself fall down into an overstuffed pink-purple mottled monstrosity of settee.  Yasin sat next to him, somewhat more carefully.

It was half an hour later, when a group of four servants, led by another giant much like Baba, but without the pouch and a lot more muscled, entered the room swiftly.  Yasin jumped to his feet, pulling Adam up with him.

“Hello, Adjani…,” he began, but the giant interrupted him promptly.

“Hi there, Yasin.  I’ve already been instructed; there’s no need for you stay.  Report back to housekeeping.”

Immediately Yasin bowed and left, giving Adam a last imploring look.

Adjani didn’t waste any time.  “Grab him and throw him over the couch!” he called out, pointing at Adam.  “Down with his pants!  The prince has ordered a punishment for him!”

It happened so fast that Adam didn’t have any time to fight.  Next thing he noticed he was lying bare-assed over the friggin’ settee’s back, held down by four men and unable to move.

“Shit!  Fuck!” he cursed.  “Goddamn let me go, assholes!”

Adjani grabbed his hair and pulled his head up.  “I would gag you, slave, but that would disappoint quite a few people in this palace who are waiting to hear you scream.”

Adam swallowed, hard, while the big servant grinned ominously.  Then he went to knock on a smaller door that was almost hidden behind a polished desk.  It opened immediately and the prince appeared.

“My Prince, we are ready,” announced Adjani.

“Then begin!” the prince ordered.  He strolled over to position himself at the settee’s side, from where he would have an unimpeded view of the proceedings.  His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his legs slightly spread.  Adam thought he looked rather smug, but on his face there was also a kind of hungry anticipation which he couldn’t hide completely.  It was clear that the bastard was getting off on this.

Adjani cleared his throat.  “Slave, you will be punished for your insolence.  Since it is your first offense, the prince has been lenient.  You will get thirty slaps on your bare ass.  I will administer them and you will thank me afterwards, or it’s thirty more.  Prepare yourself.”

Thirty slaps on his ass?  That was supposed to impress him?  Adam nearly laughed.  What was this, kindergarten?  His serenity lasted until the first slap landed heavily on his naked flesh.  He screamed out, as much from surprise as from the pain of it.  Oh, damn!  He’d never have thought a single slap could hurt that much.  He had a second to register the satisfied expression on the prince’s face before the next slap fell.  And then all he could do was hang on.  After ten swats, his flesh felt like it was boiling, but still he managed to keep silent.  As it went on, his gasps and moans turned to outright screams and when they had reached twenty he was begging the giant to stop.

There was a short pause.  Adam raised his head, just in time to see the smirking prince shake his head ‘no’ and then Adjani delivered the last ten slaps just as methodically and heavily as the first ones.  When it was over, the servants loosened their grip on Adam, but he was too shaken to move much.  Sobbing and panting, his body bathed in sweat, he clung to the settee’s back.  His flesh was burning and seemed to be quaking with aftershocks.

Someone grabbed his hair and pulled his head up.

“Oh, look what a mess you are!” drawled the prince, his eyes bright with excitement.  “Also, you seem to have forgotten something – or are you per chance a slut for pain?  If so, Adjani will be happy to oblige you.  Again.”  He smiled sardonically.

At first, Adam didn’t understand.  Then Adjani went to stand right in front of him and he remembered.  Adam closed his eyes, realizing that this was not the time for defiance.  Taking a deep breath he looked at the giant once more.  “Thank you, Adjani,” he choked out, his voice rough.  Adjani nodded, satisfied.  “You are welcome.  Your punishment is served.”

The prince had watched their exchange closely.  There was a telltale flush on his face, and he seemed a little out of breath.  Even through his loose fitting pants it was obvious that he was hard as a rock.

“Get him cleaned up and chain him to my bed,” he ordered.  Lowering his mouth to Adam’s ear he whispered, “I’ll give you a few hours to think about what I will do you tonight, dear.  And just so you know, this little punishment was nothing.  Just a bit of a warm-up!”

With these words he spun around and was gone.

 

~~~~~

 

At a gesture from Adjani the four servants dragged Adam into an adjacent bathroom, overdone much like the reception room in shades of cerulean and gold.  They scrubbed him down fast and efficiently.  Most of his body painting was gone anyway; probably smeared all over the settee of dread.

Things only became difficult when he was supposed to use the – golden - toilet.  With two servants grabbing his arms and one his cock, it took him quite some time to muster the necessary concentration.  Finally he managed, thinking it probably wouldn’t be such a good idea to wet the prince’s bed after the start they’d had.  On the other hand, the longer he thought about it…

From the bathroom he was led through another door into what he assumed was the prince’s bedroom.  Unlike the reception room, this one wasn’t garish at all, done in muted colors and earth tones with black accents.  Only the bed stood out, polished black wood, the sheets silky and of a pale golden color.  Quite beautiful.  The servants chained him on it, face down, so that he was spread-eagled with very little give in the chains.  Then they left.

“I can’t remember that I’ve ever had anybody hate me so much after such a short time,” Adam remarked to Adjani, turning his head towards him.

The giant regarded him calmly.  “I think hate may be the wrong word,” he replied.  “Prince Thomas isn’t like that.  Really, I’ve never seen him act like he did today.  It’s your fault for threatening him.”

“Me--threatening him?  Are you saying he’s afraid of me?”  Adam couldn’t really imagine it.

Adjani shook his head.  “Well, it would amount to treason if I said that.  A sultan’s son knows no fear, of course.”

The look in his eyes when he said it was clearly a warning.  “Now, hold still.  I‘m going to put something on that blistered behind of yours.”

He disappeared back into the bathroom and when he returned he threw an ice-cold, wet towel over Adam’s ass.  Adam hissed, but realized fast that it helped with the throbbing pain and soothed it to dull ache.  He sighed.

“Ah, this is better.  Thank you.”

Adjani patted his shoulder in acknowledgement.  After a while he took the towel off and dabbed the skin dry.  “I’m going to put some aloe lotion on you now.  Don’t move--we don’t want to get it on the sheets.”  The gel was cold and the giant massaged it carefully into Adam’s skin.  It was amazing how gentle his touch was, considering the size of the man.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Adam asked.

Adjani chuckled.  “I thought you were hilarious in the throne room.  So courageous and fierce.  Really not the Sultan’s type.  He likes his men smaller and a little tamer.”

Adam grinned.  “Just like I do.  About the ’smaller’, anyway.  Not so sure about ‘tamer’.  Your prince would suit me fine, if he weren’t such a cruel and vindictive bastard.”

“I’ve told you, he’s not like that.  Don’t judge him from what happened today,” replied Adjani.  “Now, do you want me to prepare you for tonight?  I’m rather sure he won’t hurt you, but just in case?”

All of a sudden Adam felt that cold dread in his stomach again.  “Shit.  Yes, you’d better, I guess.  It’s been a while for me.  Is he big?”

“I’m going to pretend that you just didn’t ask me about my prince’s penis.  And you will pretend I didn’t tell you that he’s got nothing to be ashamed of.  Considering his overall size he’s nicely built.”  The big man shrugged, grinning.

“Smashing.  I’m going to be raped by a petit prince with a delicate little cock.”  Adam wriggled his behind in a desperate attempt at gallows humor.  Adjani seemed unamused.

“Hold still now.  I’m just going to put some lube up there.”  He was very careful doing it, taking his time, warming the lube up in his hands before working a generous amount into Adam’s tight channel.  It might have felt nice if Adam hadn’t been so preoccupied with what else might happen that night.

The servant got up and wiped his fingers.  “That should suffice.”  He freed Adam’s right hand from the shackles.  “You’re ready now.  If you are thirsty, there’s water on the table next to you.  Try to behave when the prince returns tonight.  Don’t let your mouth get you into trouble again.”  He cast a last glance at Adam’s prone body and left.

 

~~~~~

 

Adam closed his eyes.  Finally alone.  Alone and helpless and chained to the bed of a sadistic bastard, who would probably rape him and hurt him in a hundred other ways.  And that would be his life from now one?  A mere toy, subjected to the whims of a spoilt princeling?  Adjani had said the prince wasn’t like that, whatever that meant.  Had alluded that maybe he felt threatened by Adam.  But how?  What had Adam done, besides being a bit, well, cheeky, to the Sultan?

Okay, so he had looked at them, when he was forbidden to do so.  And yes, he had checked them both out, the Sultan and the boy on the throne next to his, and somehow he had ended up choosing the prince.  Because damn, the way that boy looked, all that sultry sexiness and attitude, Adam had felt such a strong instant attraction to him, it had been unnerving.  And when the prince had flinched at Adam’s growl…  Maybe that had been the pivotal point.  Maybe the prince was indeed afraid of him for some reason.

And maybe that was why he had felt the need to let his servant punish Adam tonight.  So what was the expedient way of treating the prince now?  Should he welcome the prince’s advances?  Should he accept the humiliation and possibly the pain without fighting back? He didn’t think he could do that.  This was not how he was wired.

Thinking about it made him angry, and his still aching ass didn’t help much, either, in ways of keeping his temper in check.  The waiting made it worse.  He had been lying on this bed for hours.  It had been dark outside even before Adjani had left.  Now, Adam thought he could hear the first birds outside, and either it was getting lighter in the room or his eyes had adjusted to the darkness really well.

He hadn’t slept one second, hadn’t eaten since Shahin’s rooms.  No wonder he felt wrung out.  While he’d lain there waiting, he had drunk all of the water from the carafe on the bedside table and now his bladder was killing him.

Suddenly there was a noise at the door before it was flung open wide.  A slight figure stumbled into the bedroom, bringing with it a wave of perfume, alcohol and something else, sickly and sweet.  Hashish, maybe?

The person made a beeline for the bed, crashing into the small table on his way, sending the glass and the empty carafe flying, and then fell gracelessly onto the mattress.  Yuck.  From this close the smell was a lot worse.  There was a sour note to it, too, as if the person had thrown up and not cleaned himself properly.  Adam wrinkled his nose.  The prince--for of course it was him--must have had one hell of a night.  The wretch cuddled up to Adam closely, snuffled a bit and promptly fell asleep.  It wasn’t long before he was snoring.

Adam fumed.  Hours and hours of nervous anticipation and fear, and this was what it amounted to?  A wasted drunk next to him, sleeping the sleep of the innocent?  And damn, his bladder _was_ killing him.  With his free arm, he poked the prince in the ribs.  No reaction.  If anything, the snoring got louder.

He did it again, putting more force behind it.  A plaintive wail got added into the snores, giving the overall impression of an over-fed Persian cat being stepped on its tail.  The prince didn’t wake up, didn’t even open his eyes.  Adam had enough.  He jabbed him again, as hard as he could from his awkward position, and yelled into the prince’s ear.  ”Thomas!  Wake up, damn it!  Or I’m going to piss right all over you!”

One bleary eye opened.  “All over me.  Yeah,” the prince slurred.  The eye fell closed again.

Adam narrowed his eyes.  “Your wish is my command, your royal pain in the ass.”

With a bit of fiddling he got his cock aimed straight at the prince and prepared to let loose.  In the last second he decided otherwise, though, and directed the stream over the prince onto the carpet in front of the bed.  Of course, it wasn’t exactly easy maneuvering, and some of the piss actually hit the prince’s body.  But there was no reaction, only a soft moan coming from the other man, in between the snores.  Feeling relieved and somehow accomplished, Adam closed his eyes and finally fell asleep, too.

He was awoken abruptly by loud swearing.

“Fuck!  Oh, fuck!  What the hell was in that damned pipe?!”  Then, more quietly, “I can’t believe I pissed all over myself and never even woke up!”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong, my prince,” Adam couldn’t help drawling.  ”Actually, Ipissed on you.  Accidentally, though; I was aiming for the carpet.  Just so you know.  What did you expect, anyway, leaving me tied to your bed for hours and hours?”

The prince blinked.  Slowly his sickly-pale face went from embarrassment to realization.  He paled even more.  Then he groaned.  Hurriedly he jumped out of the bed and dashed into the bathroom.  Retching could be heard, and then the shower starting.  When he emerged, his face still had that greenish hue, but he didn’t smell like a brothel anymore and wore a clean bathrobe.  Without looking at Adam, he stormed out of the bedroom and yelled for Adjani.

The giant appeared with the group of servants Adam already knew.  They unchained him from the bed and dragged him along with them.  A short time later he found himself back in his bleary, windowless underground cell, calling himself all kinds of stupid.  When would he finally learn to keep his mouth shut?


	3. Chapter 3

 

It was back to blandness once more.  After all the opulence of the palace, the change was jarring.  Adam thought he was going to go batty when he found another beige shift arriving with another tasteless meal in the dumb waiter.  This was torture by endless boredom.  If he’d had a choice, he would have preferred getting his ass tanned by Adjani every day to this.  And he had so much time for thinking now.  Thinking about the prince, especially, and about what he himself could have done differently.  There was a lot of that.  Still, he couldn’t find it in him to feel regret.

After three days, the food suddenly got better.  There were fresh fruit, salads, different kinds of tender meat accompanied by fragrant rice dishes.  Fresh bread, butter and cheese, and the best: coffee, hot and strong and black as sin.  The next day the dumb waiter not only carried food, but also softer bed linens and clothes like the ones Yasin had worn.  A few days later, there was also a newspaper.  Reading it he found a small notice in the diverse section stating that Adam Lambert, an American citizen from San Diego who’d been working as an entertainer on a cruise ship was still missing without a trace, and that his family and friends were desperate, but not giving up hope.

Oh, God.  His parents.  Neil.  Oh, God, his mother!  Thinking of them achieved what boredom, punishment and captivity hadn’t: He curled up in a corner of the cell and cried his heart out.

 

~~~~~

 

One day Yasin visited him, hovering on the other side of the bars.

“You have barely touched your food in days.  What’s up?  We’re all worried.”

Adam looked up.  “Who is ‘we’?”

The boy fidgeted.  “Well, Shahin and me, mostly.  And Adjani.  We’ve been sending you that food and stuff, behind the prince’s back.”

Adam shook his head.  “Are you mad?  What if he finds out?  I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”

Yasin smiled.  “We’re very careful.  We have ways the prince doesn’t know about.  Tell me, is it true that you pissed on his Turkmenian silk carpet?”

Adam couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that came onto his lips.  “Yeah, it’s true.  What really made him mad, though, was probably that I got a few drops on him in the process.  Mind, I tried to wake him up, but he was too drunk or drugged, or both.  It wasn’t even my fault, but now I’ll be rotting here forever!”

“Not forever.  In two weeks he will have to present you at court,” Yasin reminded him.  “Don’t give up.  You will have another chance.”

Adam had his doubts about that, but Yasin assured him that the Sultan wouldn’t allow the prince to get rid of Adam, a rumor that had reached him via Baba and Kris, the Sultan’s favorite.  According to Yasin, the prince had been in a very bad mood these last days, which had to account for something, too.

What worried both Yasin and Adam was the fact that Prince Thomas hadn’t called for Adam yet.  How was Adam to perform for the Sultan without any kind of practice?

“He will call for you.  He has to.  The Sultan has put quite the pressure on him, by giving you to him,” declared Yasin.

Adam wasn’t so sure.  “No, he won’t.  He’ll keep me down here until the Sultan and everybody else will have forgotten about me.”  No matter what Yasin said after that, he couldn’t change Adam’s opinion.

 

~~~~~

 

It turned out that Adam had been right.  When Yasin finally came to get him from the cell, the four weeks had passed.  They took the same route like the last time, slightly more familiar now.  The harem’s door opened at Yasin’s knock, on the other side, already waiting, were Baba, with a rather benevolent expression on his round face, and a squealing Shahin.

“Oh Adam!” he gushed, “It’s so good to see you!  I’m going to make you look so delicious, the prince won’t know what hit him!”  He gave Adam an onceover.  “Hm.  You’re pale, that can’t be helped.  Well, it could, but I don’t want to stifle your skin with terra aegyptica!  We’re going to do something dramatic with your hair – I envision blue and green accents, a few extensions down your back and of course I’ll paint your body again.  I have even ordered a new palette of colors, only for you!”

He was so excited.  Adam didn’t have the heart to tell him that it would be all in vain.  He was pretty sure that it wouldn’t matter how he looked tonight.  There were just too many ways things could go awry between him and the prince and only maybe one way they might go right.  He thought it was rather hopeless.

Regarding himself in a mirror hours of preparation later Adam had to admit that he had never looked sexier, or more exotic.  At first he had balked at the turquoise patent leather shorts that were way too tight to be comfortable.  Together with the Roman sandals, whose lacing went up to his knees, they looked awesome, though.  The vest he wore was rather form-fitting, too.  “It’s to direct gazes at your delectable waist”, had Shahin explained, continuing, “And now, the pièce de résistance!”  He disappeared into another small room from which he returned hiding something with his hands behind his back.

“Right or left?” he asked.

“Left,” Adam replied.

“Tada!” Shahin produced a substantial sapphire.  “This is going into your navel!”

“I thought I didn’t have any jewelry?” Adam asked, regarding the beautifully cut stone in awe.

“This is yours.  The Sultan sent it for you.  So we have to use it anyway, or he would be offended.  The prince will of course know it’s from his father, so it will also serve as a warning to him.”

“So, what happens now?” Adam asked, after the jewel had been glued to his navel.  “When are we going to the Sultan?”

Yasin cleared his throat.  “The prince will come and get you.  Since he has to show his ability to handle a concubine, you two will go alone.”  He paused, looking at Adam intently.  “Adam, it is absolutely necessary for this to work.  If you show him off as a failure in front of his father and the whole court, there will be hell to pay for both of you.  But it will be worse for you!”

Adam nodded.  “I will try my best.  But I can’t make any promises about what will happen if he provokes me.”

 

~~~~~

 

A loud knock shook the door in its hinges, then it opened and Adjani entered, followed by Prince Thomas.  “The prince has arrived!” the giant bellowed loudly.  Everybody bowed, Adam following belatedly.  The prince stepped in front of him, frowning already.  He seemed very tense.

“On your knees, slave!” he commanded, glaring at Adam challengingly.

Adam, Yasin’s warnings fresh in his mind, obeyed instantly.

“Well, good,” said the prince in a snappish voice.  “So you can be taught.  That’s at least something.  Now get up and follow me.”  Adam complied, but those comments already had him more than a bit mad.

They made their way to the big hallway and into one of the elevators.  When the doors closed and the cabin moved upwards, the prince threw Adam a menacing look, announcing, “I’m going to put you through your paces, slave!  You’ll be obeying me instantly if you know what’s good for you!”

Adam’s hold on his temper had already been frayed after the scene in the dressing room.  Now it slipped entirely.  Abruptly he pushed the elevator’s hold button and grabbed the prince by the collar of his silk shirt, pulling him close so their noses almost touched.  “You--put me through my paces?  I think not!” he grated angrily.

The other man seemed shocked by that outburst of violence.  His body was nearly frozen in Adam’s hold and his eyes were wide and panicked.

“Unhand me, slave,” he said after a moment, but it sounded so weak and insecure that Adam almost laughed out loud.

Instead he shook his head, tightening his grip around the collar and pressed the prince backward until he hit the elevator’s wall.

“Listen, toy boy,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “if you call me ‘slave’ just one more time, there’s no guarantee of what I might do to you.  So mind your dirty mouth out there, or I’ll mind it for you!”

The prince blinked and bit his lips.  Adam’s eyes zoomed in on the picture and stayed there, caught in some kind of spell that was almost dizzying.

“Oh, what the hell,” he muttered.  Not stopping to think, his lips descended on the prince’s half open mouth.  It was a cruel kiss at first, with more teeth, more lip smashing than a kiss should have.  After the first few seconds the prince started fighting to get away, but Adam was so much taller and stronger that his struggles were useless.

Slowly Adam deepened the kiss, bringing his whole body flush against the other man’s, pushing his tongue into his mouth, utterly surprised when suddenly the squirming stopped and the prince went boneless and compliant against him.  With a low moan, he even began to kiss Adam back.  Hesitantly at first, small, tentative licks of his tongue against Adam’s, a soft shifting of his lips to open up completely for him.  Adam felt him tremble ever so slightly, felt, further down, an answering, burning hardness pressed against his own.  With a groan, he tore his lips away from the prince’s and took a stumbling step back.

Both men were panting harshly, the prince seeming barely able to remain on his feet, leaning on the elevator’s wall heavily.  His eyes were closed, his face pale, but there was a reddish flush extending downward from his neck.  Oh, hell, Adam thought.

Calling himself all kinds of stupid—again--he pushed the button to continue their ride, thankful that his tight pants helped hide his hard-on, even if they were uncomfortable as hell right then.  The prince, still short of breath and trembling, refused to look at Adam and kept his gaze firmly down.

Soon, the elevator slowed down to a standstill and the doors opened.  A jolt went through the prince.  He wiped his lips and smoothed his hair back, before exiting silently, still seemingly caught in a daze.  Adam followed three steps behind.  The prince walked down a corridor Adam recognized as the way to the throne room.  As they neared the familiar double doors, the prince turned around, obviously about to say something, but at Adam’s hard stare he closed his mouth again.  His eyes were almost desperate, though, and his hands balled to fists.

A servant announced them.  “Prince Thomas and his concubine!”

The throne room was packed, full of people who at the announcement stepped apart to form a path.  In measured steps the prince walked up to his father’s throne, Adam trailing behind.

“My son,” the Sultan greeted.

The prince bowed.  “Father.”

The Sultan ran his gaze over Adam.  “Very well.  I must say your concubine looks even better than the last time he was presented here.  I am curious to see what you have taught him.  Show us!”  The Sultan leaned back, clearly expecting to be entertained.

The prince turned towards Adam.  “On your knees, slave!”  He didn’t sound exactly confident and his voice broke a bit on the last word.  Adam saw the Sultan narrow his eyes.  He stood unmoving for a moment, just long enough for panic to appear in the prince’s eyes.  Only then did he deliberately drop to his knees, lowering his gaze like Yasin had told him to, four weeks ago.

“Now kiss my feet,” the prince continued, voice rough.  Adam complied, unhurriedly.  He took his time about it, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could reach between the straps of the prince’s sandals, even going so far as to nibble at his ankles.  The prince twitched and gave a hiss, pulling his foot away.

“Enough!” boomed the Sultan’s voice.  Adam stopped.  Suddenly it was very silent in the room.

“You have done well, Thomas,” declared the Sultan.  “And you, too, slave.  You may stand up.  The court is dismissed.”

The courtiers slowly petered out of the room, only the Sultan, Prince Thomas and Adam remained.  The Sultan regarded them with narrowed eyes.  When he spoke, his words were directed at Adam.

“It seems I have to thank you, slave, for saving my son’s face just now.  I don’t think you can imagine the fallout we would have had to deal with if you hadn’t complied.  Because of that, I will give you a choice.  It is obvious that my son can’t handle you.  In the end he would be the concubine while you would become prince.  So you will either have to be sold off or become part of my harem.  But I must tell you that I already have a favorite concubine.  You’ll never take his place.  Now, you must choose.”

Adam’s mind was racing.  What kind of choice was that?  Desperation taking over he replied in a hoarse voice, “Sell me, then.  I’ll rather take my chances somewhere else than live in your harem, forgotten by everyone.”

The Sultan nodded.  “It shall be as you say.”  He seemed relieved about Adam’s choice, as Adam had known he would.  The man was about to get up and leave the room, when suddenly the prince intervened, stepping up to his father, open anger on his face.

“Don’t you find this a little bit unfair, father, letting him pay for my faults?  If anyone is to blame for what happened here, it is me, and you know that!  This slave saved my ass just now, and you pay him back by sending him off to God knows where?  And you,” he turned towards Adam.  “You seem to have forgotten your station in life!”  The prince crossed his arms in front of his chest, glowering.  “In fact, you both seem to have forgotten something.  Father--you can’t sell him, because this slave belongs to me.  And you, slave, don’t have the right to make any choices.  I am your master and as such I am making them for you.  Hereby I declare that your place is in my harem, as my concubine.”  He glared at him defiantly.

Strangely, the Sultan seemed less angry than Adam would have thought.  His voice was rather controlled though as he spoke.  “You are of course right, my son.  I apologize.  It shall be like you said.  The slave is yours.”  An unspoken ‘for now’ hung in the air, as he rose from his throne and, throwing his son a last warning glance, left the room.

Angrily, Adam stared at the prince, totally infuriated by the brat’s highhandedness.

The prince stared right back, something like a challenge in his eyes.  “Come with me,” he said, moving toward the other exit.  “We need to talk.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

The prince took Adam out into a small garden at the western side of the palace.  A high wall went around it, giving it shelter against the hot desert winds and sand storms.  Of course, it also had to be rather effective in stopping anybody from escaping.

Between the many palm trees there were abundantly blooming shrubs and flowers, flocks of tiny hummingbirds fluttering between them in a crazy dance.  They hovered by the blossoms, sucking nectar out of them with their long, slim beaks.  The prince led Adam to a wooden bench which overlooked a small stream and beckoned him to sit down.  He himself followed suit, obviously careful to leave some space between Adam and himself.

A lovely place, Adam thought, looking around to take in the exotic display.  But still a prison.

“We need to talk,” the prince repeated.  “Or rather, I will talk and you will listen.  And I’m warning you: Adjani is watching us, and if you so much as raise a finger against me, he’ll be over here dealing with you immediately.”

“Well, spill it!“ Adam said, his patience already wearing thin.

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?!” the prince asked sharply, hands clenched in the fabric of his tunic.

Adam rolled his eyes.  Why was that boy always so wound up, for God’s sake?  Adam didn’t think it was his presence alone that caused it.  So what was the problem?  Didn’t the prince lead a life of luxury, his future all mapped out for him?  Yet he had an air of unhappiness about him.  In spite of all the people in the palace, jumping to his every whim, the prince seemed unhappy, even kind of lost.

And rather insecure, for a prince.  How he’d let Adam kiss him in the elevator spoke volumes.  He had barely fought him, had even begun to kiss Adam back in the end.  And he’d looked so helpless and shattered afterwards, when Adam had ended the kiss.  As if nobody had ever touched him like that before.  Hm.  Maybe that was it.  It would explain the tenseness, anyway.

“I want to strike a deal with you,” the prince said abruptly.

“Do you now,” Adam drawled, unsurprised.  “Since when do princes need to make deals with their slaves?”

The other man flinched, averting his eyes.  “Seems that I do, anyway,” he muttered.

Adam settled more comfortably against the back of the bench.  “Okay, I’ll listen.”

The prince’s eyes skimmed up for a moment, maybe to check if Adam was serious.  Maybe also to be sure that nobody else was in hearing range.  What he was about to say had to be rather personal.

“You will have noticed that I am a bit of a failure,” the prince began, displaying none of his usual attitude for once.  “The Sultan says it is because I favor my mother.  I don’t have the right size, or the right posture, nor am I authoritative or even confident enough to pull it off.  Too small, too weak, too pretty.  That’s what he says about me.  But there is only me; my father doesn’t have any other sons.  So I have to make it work.  And I need you…” he took another deep breath “…to help me.  Mind, I could just force you to obey me.  You wouldn’t stand a chance.  And in the end, there are still the salt mines…”

“Yeah, and let’s not forget castration,” Adam said drily.  Sometime that day, he had stopped taking the prince’s threats seriously.

The prince looked at him soberly, though.  “It is a possibility, and it has been done.  But never on my orders.  Not yet.”  He shrugged.  “I was hoping we could find a different solution.  One that works for both of us.”

Adam regarded the prince calmly.  “So what do you want from me?  You going to bribe me to make me your whore?  Apart from my freedom there isn’t much you could offer me, you know.”

The prince fidgeted.  “Hear me out, please.”  It came out almost like a plea, all his former arrogance gone.

“It’s amazing how polite you can be, my prince,” Adam couldn’t help but taunt him.  “What happened to ‘putting me through my paces’?”

The prince grimaced.  “Goddamnit, I was trying to intimidate you!”

“Intimidate me?” Adam inquired, eyebrows rising in disbelief.  “You know, that works actually better when you’re able to back it up.  I really don’t see that in you, toy boy.”

“I could always sic Adjani on you!” the prince said, the expression on his face somewhere between defiant and ashamed.

“Yeah, ‘cause that worked so well last time!”

“You would only have to act more compliant around me, at least when we’re in public,” the prince almost begged.  “I swear I won’t order you around anymore – not more than is strictly necessary, okay?  No humiliating crap anymore, no kissing my feet!”

“But I so enjoyed kissing your feet,” Adam quipped.

The prince snorted.  “Are you kidding me?  You enjoyed setting me up and making me lose face in front of my father, that’s what.”

“Well, yes.  But I also liked making you breathless just by nibbling at your ankle.”

The prince blushed and looked away.  It was adorable.  Trying to fluster him some more, Adam slowly extended his hand to let it settle on the smaller man’s thigh.  When the prince promptly tried to jump up, Adam tightened his hold, his fingers digging hard into the smaller man’s leg.

The prince gasped.  “Please, stop doing this to me!  You can’t touch me like that!  Come on, it hurts!”

Adam leaned closer.  “You think this hurts?  Getting my ass tanned by Adjani, that hurt!”

Now the prince fought in earnest to get away, but Adam was a lot bigger and stronger, and a lot more intent.  In no time his other hand was at the prince’s throat, clamping down on it until he stopped struggling.  Only then did he release his grip on him.

The prince was wheezing, gasping for air.  “Okay, you’re right.  I’m sorry!” he finally choked out.  Adam kept his hand at the prince’s throat.

“You got off on it, you little shit.  Don’t think I didn’t notice it!  You got off on watching him thrash me!  Right?  RIGHT?”

The prince bit his lips, refusing to answer.  He was a picture of misery now, trembling all over, an expression of shame his face.

“Admit it,” Adam repeated, more quietly.

The prince looked up.  “Yes.  You’re right.  I did enjoy it.  Please--”

“You won’t let him do it again,” Adam interrupted him.  “Not him, not anyone!”

“Yes.  Okay.  Never again,” the prince whispered.  “I swear it!”

When Adam let go of him the other man seemed to crumble.  Burying his face in his hands he started to cry, silently, desperately.  It shook his whole slender body.

“I’m such a failure,” he sobbed.

Adam watched his breakdown wordlessly.  Suddenly he felt a bit sorry for the prince.

Around them, the walled garden was full of life, untouched by the little drama that was unfolding.  The exotic beauty of the plants and birds, the quaintness of the little stream, made the prince’s breakdown seem strangely out of place.

After a while the prince, without looking up, made a dismissive gesture with his hand.  “Go away.  I want to be alone.”

Shrugging, Adam got up and made his way back into the palace.  At the entrance he found Adjani, scowling at him.  Obviously the giant had witnessed their encounter from afar and he was not happy with it.

“Why didn’t you intervene?” Adam asked him, curious.

Adjani’s scowl deepened.  “I had orders not to.  Else I would have stopped you, believe me!”

Oh.  Adam nodded, intrigued.  That was not what the prince had told him.  Maybe there was more to the boy than he’d thought.

 

~~~~~

 

All things considered, his day could have gone worse, Adam thought later, lying on a lush mattress that was just as comfortable as the prince’s.  He’d been assigned his own set of rooms in the prince’s wing, and they were quite luxurious.  A bedroom, a spacious sitting room with a balcony and an en suite bathroom, all decorated very tastefully, and not bordello-like at all.

He wondered which course of action he should take regarding the prince’s offer.  Negotiating terms probably wasn’t such a bad idea.  But it had always gone against his grain to defer to someone else; like he’d already told the Sultan he wasn’t really subservient.  Rather the opposite.  Especially with the prince’s behavior, which was such a strange mixture of arrogance and insecurity.  It would chafe to obey him, even if it was just for show.  On the other hand, it might be worth it.  Agreeing to the prince’s proposal would make the man dependent on him, at least.

The prince’s innocence might be another angle to work.  If he really hadn’t felt a lover’s touch before, like Adam now suspected, he would be an easy target for his advances.  And seducing the prince wouldn’t exactly be a hardship, either.  If they’d met under different circumstances, at a bar or a club, he’d probably have tried to take him home.  Even when he’d seen him for the first time here at the palace he’d immediately felt drawn to him.  A stolen kiss and a little grappling in the garden hadn’t been enough by far.  He imagined having the prince begging and pleading and coming apart under him, and it was an enticing thought.  If he could make the prince fall for him, gain his trust, maybe it would get him the opportunity to escape, to get back home to his family and to his life, which both seemed so far away now.

 

~~~~~

 

In the morning Yasin woke him, drawing the heavy blue curtains open.  He’d brought a round copper tray, too, with coffee, fruit and the too sweet pastry they favored in this country.

“The prince made me your personal servant,” the boy explained excitedly.  “He thought you’d like it.  I’m to help you dress now, because the tailor will be here shortly for your new wardrobe.  And I’m to give you this.”  He produced a small wrapped package which he gave to Adam.  He looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to open it.

Adam tore the fine silk wrapping apart to unveil a box covered in deep blue velvet and a letter.  He read the letter first.

‘My concubine.  Please accept this small token of my affection.  Further, it would please me to receive you for lunch in my chambers.  Adjani will escort you there at noon.’

“Come on, open it!”  Yasin was hovering at Adam’s side, gaze firmly on the box.  Adam flipped the lid open.  Yasin’s eyes widened and he gave an appreciative whistle.  Adam had to agree.  The bangle inside the box was indeed magnificent, shining so brightly it had to be white gold.  Stars were engraved all around it and the gems that were set in their center burned with such a dark fire they had to be black diamonds.

“It is rather nice, I suppose,” Adam murmured, holding it up against the light.  It was smooth and heavy and he knew it would look stunning on his skin.  If nothing else, the prince had taste.  He looked at Yasin and added, “I might wear it for lunch with the prince today.”

“Oh, yes,” Yasin said, relieved.  “That is a good idea.  When the tailor is done, we shall go to Shahin.  He’ll know what to wear with it.”

It sounded like a good plan, actually.

Still, a short while later, Adam’s and the nerves of everyone else in that room were close to combustion.  The tailor had appeared, bringing with him hundreds of roles of cloth, all silk and gauze and gaudy, accompanied by silver and golden bordures plus a wide assortment of feathers and tassels.  Adam had taken one look at the lot before storming out onto the balcony where he was sitting now, fuming and sulking alternately.  When Yasin had tried to talk him into coming back in, he had flat out refused, declaring he had no intention to dress up like a Barbie doll – and why should he, the prince was into men, after all, right?

Realizing there was nothing to be done, Yasin finally had sent the tailor away.

“No silk, no frills, no gauze!” Adam snarled at a startled Shahin later, when they arrived in the dressing room.  He shook the bangle under the pink haired boy’s nose and added, “I want something to go with this.  I’m thinking metal, and leather.”

“Well, yes,” Shahin hedged, “leather surely would look good on you.  Only, with our climate it would become very uncomfortable very fast.  But I have an idea how to work this.  You do trust me, right?”

Thinking about it, Adam realized that he did, at least with regard to dressing.  Shahin had worked wonders with him every time so far.

Looking in the mirror afterwards, he saw that his trust was rewarded.  Shahin had dressed him in leather indeed, just not in a lot of it.  Small black straps, artfully wrapped around his left arm and crossed in front of his chest, fastened with metal rings and buckles.  Black leather strips around his calves.  His only other piece of clothing were loose white cotton pants that ended a good few inches above his ankles, not really see-through, but thin enough to fuel fantasies.  No body-painting this time, only charcoal-black eyeliner.  His hair, longer now than he had ever worn it, was combed back so that it fanned out over his shoulders.  On one side, Shahin had woven it into a thin braid, intertwined with thin black leather strands.  On his right wrist the prince’s present was very visible.

“I look like a heathen,” Adam stated.

Yasin smirked.  “To us, you are one.”

“But a very hot heathen, if I might say so myself!” boasted Shahin.

And then it was time to meet the prince.

 

~~~~~

 

Adjani led him to a room Adam hadn’t seen before.  It turned out to be the prince’s private living room.  It was light and airy, one wall consisting of French windows that led to the same balcony Adam’s room did.  The windows were all open, the thin curtains moving in a light breeze.  On the balcony he could see potted palm trees.  The furniture was all dark wood, in the colonial style the prince seemed to prefer.  On one shelf, Adam saw the framed photograph of a beautiful, blond woman, a black ribbon at its corner.  The similarity of their delicate features made it evident that this had to be the prince’s mother.  Her eyes were a lot like her son’s, wide, like she was expecting all kinds of wonders to happen to her, and at the same time a little bit sad.  Adam couldn’t help feeling touched by the imploring expression on her face.  It was almost as if she was asking him to look out for her son.  He shook his head.  What a silly thought.

The prince had been waiting by the windows; now he turned around and came to meet them.

“Thank you, Adjani.  You may go now.”

At first the giant hovered in place, clearly unhappy with the prince’s command, but after a few tense seconds he bowed and left the room, not without throwing a last warning glare at Adam.

“Please sit down,” said the prince.  Looking around Adam saw a comfortable looking settee and two club chairs in brown leather arranged around a low coffee table.  He chose the settee and sank back into it.  The prince hesitatingly sat down in the settee’s other corner.

A short knock on the door announced the food.  This time it was an abundance of small dishes, set up like a buffet.  The main piece was a pigeon casserole sending out spicy flavors through an open-cut flaky bread crust.

They ate in silence, but though everything turned out to be as delicious as it looked and smelled Adam found that he didn’t have much of an appetite.

“Is this food not to your liking?” the prince asked finally.

Adam shrugged.  “No, it’s fine.  I’m just not very hungry.”

“If there is anything you would like better, I can have it prepared for you.”

“Well then, burgers and fries would be nice for a change, or pizza.”

At first the prince seemed clueless, but then his features brightened.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of burgers, but I know pizza.  It’s an Italian dish, right?”

“You don’t know burgers?”  Adam couldn’t believe it.  “Have you been living under a rock?”

“No, in the palace, for all my life,” replied the prince, “which may amount to the same.  I know I have been very sheltered here.  My father wished it so.  But I had teachers for everything I need to know as a future ruler.”  It sounded rather defensive.

Adam couldn’t help staring.

“You look at me like I’m a freak!” the prince exclaimed, color rising in his cheeks.

Adam put a hand on his back, trying to console him.  The other man almost jumped off the settee.

“Damn, you’re skittish!  Settle down, will you!  I’m not going to hurt you.”

Throwing him a doubtful glance, the prince sat back down.  Adam continued the backrub, and after a while the prince relaxed into his touch and some of the tension left his back.  When his breathing returned to normal, Adam pulled his hands back.  Again there was silence in the room, but it wasn’t so uncomfortable anymore.

“I don’t get touched a lot,” the prince said eventually, sounding a bit wistful.  “Only by Shahin, when he dresses me or gives me a massage.  Yours was my first kiss.”  He almost whispered it, his eyes averted again.

“And?  Did you like it?” Adam asked, his voice low and dark.

The prince sat very still.  Only his hands gripping his tunic tightly showed his nervousness.

“When I thought about it, before, about how my first kiss was going to be, I never expected something like this, so intense and so frightening.”  His eyes skimmed up to meet Adam’s, and his face was flushed as he admitted, “Yes, I did like it.”

He blushed even more, looking almost feverish, before he whispered, “I want you to do it again.”

“Do you now,” drawled Adam.

“Please, yes.”  The prince’s eyes were nearly black now, all pupils.  Adam leaned over and put a finger under the prince’s chin, drawing him closer.  The other man’s eyes fluttered shut.  Adam took his time regarding his face, which seemed so guileless now.  The soft glossy lips, already parted in invitation.  Almost, almost irresistible, but--  No.  He pushed him back.

“Maybe another time.”

The look on the prince’s face was one of utter shock.  Surprise warred with disbelief and hurt.  “But—but…” sputtered the prince.  “Why did you do that?  Why won’t you--”

“Because I’m not a whore.  Especially not yours.  Maybe we can make that deal you were talking about.  But I’m not gonna be bought with sweet words and confessions.  I’m not your friend.  I’m the man you had kidnapped.  Don’t forget that.  ‘Cause I sure won’t, either.”

At Adam’s words the prince jumped up from the couch and stormed out of the room without ever looking back.  A disgruntled Adjani appeared shortly later and dropped Adam off in his own rooms.

“The prince is crying his heart out,” the giant grumbled.  “What did you do to him?”

“He wanted me to kiss him and I refused,” Adam replied.  “I may be his concubine, but I’m not a whore.”

The servant shook his head.  “Has he treated you like a whore today?  I spoke with him beforehand.  I know what he intended to ask you.  How can you be so mean to him?  Can’t you see what’s right in front of your eyes?”

Adam looked down.  “Yes, he was different today.  Still…”

“Oh, shut up,” growled Adjani.  “It seems I was wrong about you.  Somehow I thought you’d be good for him.  And now you’ve gone and ripped his heart out!”  When he left, he slammed the door shut so hard it shook in its hinges.

Later, in bed, Adam let the day pass through his mind once again.  Adjani’s words ate at him, and he couldn’t forget the hurt expression on the prince’s face.  Still, he had done the right thing today.  He was sure of it.  So why did he feel like a total asshole?


	5. Chapter 5

 

Adam spent the next few days confined to his rooms.  Whenever he tried to leave there would always be a burly servant to hold him back.  Nothing happened, no word from the prince, either.  The only person he saw was Yasin, who brought him his meals; and Yasin didn’t talk to him and didn’t answer any of his questions, only shrugging his shoulders and regarding Adam with sorrowful eyes.

He raided his rooms for something to pass the time, but the only thing he found was a chessboard.  Never having been fond of the game he stuffed it back into the chest where he had found it.  He toyed with the thought of tearing his bedclothes up to climb from the balcony; only there were always guards in the garden, even more so at night.

He had way too much time for thinking, and the prince was foremost in his thoughts.  The longer he thought about him the more he felt like he should have acted differently.  He had saved his pride, yes, but what he’d done had been cruel.

After two days he broke and sent a letter to the prince.  He only wrote “I’m sorry.  –Adam.”

He received a short note back, “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.  –T.”  That was all.

Days went by.  Out of pure boredom, Adam had taken to feeding the birds from the balcony.  He had also gone and retrieved the chessboard and begun playing against himself, probably against all the rules of the game.

On the seventh day Adjani appeared, leading four servants carrying wooden trunks into Adam’s living room.

“Your new clothes,” he announced shortly.

Warily Adam opened one of the trunks, expecting another explosion of bad taste.  He was disappointed in the most awesome way.  No pink, no gold.  Instead, a lot of black and silver and blue.  Form-fitting pants and shirts he knew he would look amazing in.  Pulling out one piece after another he found he liked every single one.  It was as if someone had read his mind.

“Where do these come from?” he asked in surprise.

“Your master the prince had them made for you, ungrateful bitch!” growled the giant.

“That can’t have been the tailor I’ve met,” Adam quipped.

“Shahin designed them,” the giant bit out, already on his way from the room.  The servants followed him.  Yasin arrived to clear Adam’s wardrobe out and put the new garments in, still not speaking to him.  That day Adam sent another note to the prince with a simple “Thank you.”

There was no answer.  Time passed, and nothing happened, and feeling sorry slowly morphed into feeling angry again.  When at last a notice from the prince arrived, informing him that the Sultan had invited them to dinner for the following night and asking him to be ready at seven, he only wrote back “Fuck you.”

Ten minutes later his royal asshole Prince Thomas walked into Adam’s chambers.  Adam regarded him calmly from the balcony and continued feeding the birds.

The prince joined him outside.  No one spoke.

Finally the prince said, his voice matter-of-fact, “We have to attend the soiree tomorrow.  Members of the court will be there, too, so you absolutely need to behave.  What do you want from me in exchange for your compliance?”

Adam didn’t need to think twice on that one.  “A message to my family, to let them know that I am alive and well.  I want to have a video made and sent to them.  And I want prove that they received it.”

“Okay,” the prince said.  “I shall send Shahin over with a camera.  He will also know how to get the video to your family.  But I want to watch it before it is sent.”

“I understand,” said Adam, and that was that.

 

~~~~~

 

They made the video, Adam holding the latest issue of the “Sun” in his hands and telling his parents that he was all right and that they needn’t worry.  He had a hard time suppressing his tears as he spoke into the camera and his voice was more than a bit hoarse.  The prince gave his OK and Shahin loaded the video up to his pc and attached it to an email which he sent from a newly created account to Adam’s mother.  An hour later the reply was there.

‘Adam, can you imagine how relieved I was to hear from you?  But what are you doing?  What has happened?  I can’t believe that you would vanish from the face of the earth of your own will.  Is there anything we can do?  You know that we will pay any ransom.  Tell that to whoever is holding you captive.  And please, take care!  Our hearts are with you.  Dad and Neil send their love, too.

\--Your mother, Leila’

The prince had watched him read the message.  “Are you satisfied?”

Adam had to blink back tears.  He didn’t trust his voice to speak, so he only nodded.

“And you promise to behave tomorrow night and not to embarrass me?”

Pulling himself together Adam replied, “I’ll behave if you do, prince.”

“You’d better,” the prince muttered, turning to leave.

 

~~~~~

 

The next day Yasin prepared him for dinner.  Shahin was busy elsewhere.  The prince had sent another present, a chain with an amulet, also white gold.  Set in the amulet was a tiny tear-shaped black diamond.  Yasin dressed him up around it, in a loose white shirt which could be laced up at the front.  Together with the tight black pants it looked rather roguish on Adam.  Of course he wore also the bangle with the engraved stars the prince had given him before.

When the prince arrived at the door to Adam’s chambers shortly before dinner time Adam’s mouth fell open in astonishment.  No wonder Shahin had been busy elsewhere--obviously he had given the prince a total make-over.  His blond hair had been cut short on the back and one side, and partly dyed black.  In a stark contrast long blond bangs were falling into his face.  He wore clothes similar to Adam’s, but they were all black, the only accent a blood red silk scarf wrapped around his neck.  He also had heavy lines of kohl around his eyes, and his lips were the same color as his scarf.  His eyes met Adam’s defiantly.  “Are you ready?” he asked.

Adam swallowed.  The prince’s new look was more than appealing.  “I was ready,” he muttered, “but then you turned up, looking like that!  I don’t think I should meet your father like this.”  He pointed to his erection which the tight pants did nothing to hide.  The prince’s eyes went wide.

“Is this because of me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

Spontaneously, Adam made up his mind.  Taking the prince’s hand he dragged him into the room.

“Stop!” shouted Adjani, about to jump between them.

“No, it’s okay.  Wait outside,” the prince said, pulling his hand out of Adam’s.  “What do you want?  Do you have any questions about tonight?”

Adam waited until the giant had closed the door.  “I wanted to say sorry again.  For, uh, not kissing you.  It was a mean thing to do.”

“Oh.”  The prince looked surprised.  Clearly he hadn’t expected that.  He seemed to be searching for words, so Adam continued, “I can do it now, if you want to--“

“No!”  The prince almost shouted, backing away.

Adam tried to reassure him.  “I won’t hurt you.”

The prince grimaced.  “That is what you said then, too.”  His back was against the wall as Adam came closer.

“No, please, Adam--“  He trembled, but made no move to push Adam away.

“Shush.”  Gently, Adam took hold of the prince’s face and gave him a light peck on the lips.  When he met no resistance he deepened the kiss, at first only nibbling at the other man’s lips, then slowly pushing them apart with his tongue.  At first the prince seemed paralyzed, but then his mouth opened up willingly, giving Adam complete access and even kissing him back more and more fervently.  Pressed against each other so closely, Adam thought he could almost feel the other man’s heart race.  And he felt something else, too.

Curious, he touched the prince’s right nipple, very lightly.  The prince hissed and tried to pull away.  “Please, no!  It’s still tender.”

Adam tightened his hold.  “I want to see it.”

The prince hesitated.  Then he shrugged and pulled his shirt open.

“Shit!”  The sight went straight to Adam’s cock.  Both of the prince’s nipples had been pierced and were adorned with slim barbells.  It had to have been done recently; the tissue around them looked rather puffy and swollen.  No wonder they were so tender.  Adam’s fingers itched with the urge to play with those nips.  Slowly he extended a hand toward them.  The prince gasped and shook his head.

“Let me,” Adam demanded.

The prince let his hands fall away defenselessly.  “Okay.  But--“

“Hush, Tommy.”

At first Adam just traced the aureoles with a wet finger, circling them without ever touching them directly.  The prince was breathing heavily, his hands balled to fists, but he did nothing to stop him.  Then Adam leaned down and tasted the nubs with his tongue, starting out very softly before working up to longer and longer licks all across them.  When the prince was completely undone, leaning back against the wall moaning and sighing, Adam pulled back and blew air on the wetly glistening nips.

“Ah, shit!” the prince gasped as they tightened up painfully.  Satisfied, Adam regarded his handiwork.  He looked down and found a sizeable erection, clearly visible through the other man’s tight pants.

 

“Please!  Please, Adam!  I need--“  The prince looked at Adam desperately, eyes burning with want.

“I know what you need.”  Adam descended on the prince’s lips again while at the same time pushing one hand firmly down against his rock-hard cock.  Bucking up into the touch, the prince came almost instantly, screaming his pleasure into Adam’s mouth.  Adam held him through it until the smaller man went completely limp against him.

Carefully he steered him to the sofa.  “Sit down before you fall down.”

Looking thoroughly debauched, face flushed and eyes bright, the prince flopped down on it.

“Oh, Adam!  That was so amazing!  No one has ever touched me like that!”

Adam sat down beside him, his own erection tenting his black pants almost obscenely.  Tentatively, the prince stretched out a hand towards it.  “May I?”

“Sure.”  Adam pulled his pants down to get his hard and leaking cock out.  “Have at it.”

Slowly the prince took hold of Adam’s cock.  “You’re a lot bigger than me,” he said in an awed voice.  Inexpertly but eagerly he started jacking Adam’s cock, working it with both hands.

“Harder.  More,” Adam moaned, pushing up into the prince’s hands.  Gripping him more tightly, the prince sped up his strokes, concentrating on the tip that was glistening and shiny with precome.

“Like this?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes riveted on Adam’s cock.

“Shit, yes, exactly like this!”  The prince kept it up and soon Adam was bucking up into his touch.  “Ah, yes!  Come on, faster!  Yeah, like that, oh, oh, shit!  Tommy!  YES!”  Adam yelled out as his own orgasm was upon him and he came like a fucking freight train all over the prince’s hands.

When he was finally able to take in his surroundings again, he found the prince staring at his own come-stained hands with wide eyes.

“What are you waiting for?  Lick it off!” Adam growled.

The prince’s eyes widened even more, but he complied, licking his own hands clean, before gently and meticulously tonguing the come off Adam’s cock.  Adam could see he was trembling minutely, but he never stopped until the last drop of come was washed away by his tongue.  Then he looked up at Adam searchingly.  “Was that okay?”

Adam pulled him in for another short kiss.  “More than okay.  You were awesome, Tommy.”

The other man gave a little wistful smile.  “Tommy.  Only my mother called me that.”  He cuddled up to Adam.  They sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought.

“Don’t we need to get to dinner?” Adam asked finally.

The prince moaned.  “Oh, damn, you’re right.  I need to get cleaned up first, though.  I’m a mess!”

“Me too,” Adam said.

“Yeah, you’ve got my lipstick all over your face.  And come on your pants.”  The prince sounded rather pleased with himself.  “I’ll ring for Shahin.  He will fix us.”  He moved to stand up.

“Wait,” Adam said and the prince sat back down, looking at him expectantly but also a little apprehensively.  “Yes?”

“Just…  I like your new look.  Just so you know, Tommy.”

The prince blushed.  “I love it when you call me that.  Thank you.  I… I hoped it would please you, you know.”

For a while they sat, looking at each other, everything that had happened fresh and raw in their minds, until a knock at the door broke the spell.  It was Adjani, of course, probably worried about what Adam had been up to.

“Come in,” Tommy answered resignedly.  Duty called.

Ten minutes later they were presentable once more and on their way to the Sultan’s wing, Adam walking the required three steps behind the prince.  Suddenly he turned around and took Adam’s hand, pulling him closer.

“I know it is the custom, but I will change it now!” the prince declared.  “You will walk at my side from now on!”

So they entered the Sultan’s dining room side by side, still holding hands, and while there was a general murmur and the Sultan’s eyebrows rose quite a bit at their sight, he didn’t seem too displeased.  Instead he rang the bell to announce the beginning of dinner.

Adam found that he was ravenous, no wonder after the day’s activities.  When he saw that the first dish carried in were huge sheets of pizza, he took the prince’s hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” whispered the prince, kissing him back just as quickly.

Sometime during the meal, Adam noticed a smaller man sitting next to the Sultan.  He wore garments that covered the whole body, even most of the face.  Maybe it was because of the slit in the veil, but Adam had the distinct impression that this man was glaring at him.  “Who’s that?” he asked the prince.

“That’s Kris, my father’s favorite.  Why do you ask?”

Adam shrugged.  “He doesn’t seem to like me much.  I wonder why.  He can’t be jealous, can he?”

The prince shook his head.  “He’s absolutely devoted to the Sultan, and my father loves him dearly.  Don’t worry about him.  Probably it’s just indigestion.”

“If you say so.”  Adam had his doubts, but he decided to let the topic go, and since the Sultan’s concubine kept his gaze lowered for the rest of the meal, he soon forgot about it.

 

~~~~~

 

Kristopher was worried.  Lately, there had been disturbances in the palace, balances were shifting, new powers appearing, and he didn’t like it at all.  Change made him uneasy, made him feel threatened.  He wondered if he would have to take action.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 “I want you to spend the night with me.“

They were standing in the main corridor of the prince’s wing and Tommy was looking up at Adam so expectantly that Adam was reminded of a puppy somehow.  Well, if Tommy were a puppy he’d be wagging his tail now, like, at 100 beats per minute.  It was cute, and the prince was all kinds of hot and so damn _eager_ , but, damn…

“Listen, Tommy--”  Already the prince’s face fell.  Adam felt sorry but some things needed to be made clear.

“What?” demanded the prince, halfway between defiant and pouting.  He had taken a step back and his arms were crossed in front of his chest defensively.

Adam regarded him tenderly.  “Tommy, I realize that your father and everyone else here thinks I’m your property.  If you believe that, too, you need to think again.  Because I won’t be catering to you.  I can’t.  It would kill me.  Everything that happens between us has to happen on my terms.  Not yours.  You can take what I offer.  You can ask, and I may say ‘yes’.  Tonight, I say ‘no’.  That’s how it has to be.  Do you understand?”

Shock registered on the prince’s face, but only for a second, before it turned into determination.  He swallowed and nodded.  “Okay.  I understand.  Will you tell me why, at least?  Did I do something wrong, this evening?”

Adam shook his head.  “No, you haven’t done anything wrong.  You’ve been really very sweet.”  Words meant to comfort him, but it wasn’t working for some reason.  If anything, the prince seemed even more worried now.

“What then?  Why don’t you want me?  Is it because I’m too small?  Or because I’m so inexperienced?  I know I haven’t done stuff, but I’ve looked on the net, and I’ve seen things there, and… you can do them to me.  Whatever you want.”  Tommy blushed and his voice fell to a whisper.  “You can take me, you know?  I want it.  You don’t need to be the… the bottom—“

Adam stepped closer to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.  “First, you’re not too small.  You’re fine the way you are.  Second, being a virgin is no sin.  Everybody starts out that way.  I don’t mind having to teach you; in fact it’s a turn-on for me.”  He gave Tommy a short smile, before continuing, “Third, being the bottom has got nothing to do with being weak.”

“Okay,” Tommy said slowly, “well, then, I mean… I see, maybe.  And thank you for telling me, I guess.  But, why—“

“Because we barely know each other.  I don’t want to rush things.  And I don’t want to be rushed, either.  Like I said, my terms.  I am here against my will, a prisoner.  I want to control my life as much as is possible under these circumstances.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes.  Yes, of course, I do.”  In spite of his words, the prince sounded disappointed.

Adam cupped his cheek and kissed him on the lips, lightly.  “I’m just saying ‘no’.  I’m not saying ‘never’.”

The prince nodded sharply.  “All right, Adam.  I get it.  Then I will go now.  I wish you a good night.”

“Good night, Tommy.  You sleep well, too.”

Tommy walked down the corridor.  Shortly before reaching the corner he turned around to look back at Adam and whispered, “I shall sleep only to dream of you.”  Smiling mischievously, he pulled his shirt open, so that his freshly pierced nipples became visible.  Softly stroking the sensitive buds, he added, “And before I fall asleep, I will touch myself all over, and I’ll imagine they’re your hands on my body, making me feel so, so good.”

It was said very silently, but Adam heard it, every syllable, and the words--and the pictures to go with them--burned themselves into his mind like drops of liquid fire.

He just knew he would be dreaming about this, too.

 

~~~~~

 

Kris was rather surprised to receive an invitation for lunch in the prince’s chambers.  It wasn’t even nine; he wouldn’t have thought the prince to be up quite so early.  The way he and that concubine of his had behaved during dinner, especially with Tommy being so infatuated and barely able to keep his eyes off that man, Kris had been sure that was only the prelude to a night of wild, hot sex.

Now he wasn’t so sure.  He knew the prince, knew Tommy never had been an early riser.  So what had happened?  Trouble in paradise?  Already?  Kris smirked.  Hopefully, yes.  He rang for Samir, his attendant.  Whatever it was, he’d be prepared.

It was point twelve when Kris knocked at the prince’s door.  He’d dressed carefully, choosing garments that were expensive but not flashy.  Not too many jewels, either.  The ring with the cut ruby that marked him as favorite concubine, and of course the heavy golden necklace the Sultan had given him on their first anniversary.  It had been soldered on, so he couldn’t take it off anyway.  From the necklace hung a golden amulet, with flowers delicately etched around the sigil that all of the Sultan’s belongings bore.  In the rare moments when he was honest with himself, Kris called it his dog tag.

The prince himself opened the door and invited Kris in.  There was no servant to be seen, but a light lunch was laid out on a low table.

Kris settled down on the cushions, always gracefully, like he’d been taught to so many years ago.  With calculated flicks of his hands he pushed his hair out of his face.  As long as there were no strangers present, he was allowed to wear his hair open, in fact the Sultan had ordered him to do so, as he was very fond of the silky long strands.  He also loved burying his hands in it to keep Kris in place when they--Kris banished the picture from his mind, concentrating on the prince instead who had sat down opposite Kris, looking a bit insecure.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Kris began.  “It’s been a while since we two talked.”

“Yes, it’s been too long,” Tommy agreed.  He gestured at the table, “Help yourself, Kris, don’t be a stranger.”

Kris smiled and they dug in.  He was comfortable with the prince, having known him since he was a teenager.  Tommy had always been nice to him and never taken sides in the first hard months when Kris had still fought against the Sultan.  It had been a dreadful time, but it was long over and Kris had adjusted.  He’d made a life for himself in the palace that was bearable and offered a kind of security, as much as was possible anyway.  He felt that security threatened by the new concubine, and so he was eager for the prince to spill the beans about last night.

But his patience was sorely tried, the prince seemingly very reluctant to talk about anything but banalities.  Maybe Kris had been wrong, and this was all it was, a lunch to exchange pleasantries and brush up on everyday stuff?  After one and a half hour of small talk, Kris was beginning to think it might be so.

“Well,” he said, moving to get up, “it was nice catching up with you—“

“No, please wait,” the prince interrupted.  “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.  But it’s kind of personal.”

“Please, just ask me.  I’ll be as honest as possible with you,” Kris said.

The prince shook his head.  “No, Kris.  You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.  But I think I need your advice about something.”

Now that sounded promising, finally.  Kris looked at Tommy encouragingly.  “What is it?”

“It’s about Adam.”

Well, duh.

“You know we had a rough start, right?”

“Yes.  Your father told me about it.”

“Okay.  What I want to know is--you love my father, don’t you?”

Kris had expected something like that, but it still hit him in the gut to have that question thrown at him.  There was only one possible answer, of course.

“Yes.  Yes, I do.”

Tommy nodded.  “That’s what I thought.  But in the beginning, when you came to us, you didn’t, right?”

Kris shook his head ‘no’.  “Well, how could I?  I didn’t know your father then.  I’ve been taken here, probably much like your concubine“--he couldn’t bring himself to say the name somehow--“without being asked.”  And that was putting it mildly.

Tommy nodded again, in understanding.  “So, how did you come to love him?  What did he do to make you?”

‘What did he not do?’ thought Kris, having to work hard to suppress a shudder as memories he usually repressed pushed to the surface.  Out loud he said, “I got to know him better.  He’s a great man, strong and powerful.  He treats me well.  How could I not love him?”

The prince frowned and lowered his gaze, thinking.  After a short while he looked up again and plodded on, determinedly.  “Yes, my father loves you.  And he treats you well now.  But I seem to remember that it wasn’t always so.  What did you do to make him fall in love with you?”

Time to move in for the kill.  “I certainly didn’t dress like a whore.”

The prince recoiled as if he’d received a blow.  “What do you mean?” he asked, dismayed.

“You want me to be honest?” Kris asked back.  Tommy nodded.

“You want your concubine to desire you.  You want to please him.  That is wrong, Thomas.  He needs to please you.  You’re his master.  It’s your wish that counts.  You behave like it’s the other way round.  You’re throwing yourself at him, all dressed up like a tart.  How can you expect him to respect you if you behave this way?  You need to show him who’s the master here!”

The prince’s eyes had gotten wider and wider during Kris’ speech.  He seemed shocked at first, and ashamed, and, God, were those tears in his eyes?

“Think about my words, Tommy,” Kris said, more tenderly.

The prince looked up slowly.  “Thank you for being honest with me,” he said quietly.  “You may go now.”

Getting up, Kris bowed deeply and left the prince’s chambers.  He wasn’t sure about how successful he’d been.  The prince had looked ashamed, yes, but there also had been a good deal of defiance on his face.  Still, maybe it had been enough.  The prince was young and weak; the feeling of shame would probably win out.  Kris almost felt ashamed himself for hurting him so.  It had to be done, he reassured himself.  A little pain now might save the prince from heartbreak later.  And secondly, even more important, that concubine needed to be taken down a peg or two.  Kris smiled grimly, something no one ever got to see.  He would keep his world clean, small as it was.  Maybe when all had played out and things were back to normal again, he’d cry a bit for Tommy and for his concubine.  Maybe even a bit for himself.

 

~~~~~

 

No…  Oh, God, no!  Not again!  His arms were flailing around, he was screaming and begging and wailing and it was all useless.  The heavy weight held him down and there was nothing he could do.  Nothing.  And now his head was pressed into the pillow and even his screams were muffled.  The pillow got soaking wet with his tears and his snot and spit; and the burning, tearing spike was rutting inside him mercilessly, breaking him open, tearing him apart.  There was nothing he could do but take it, again and again.  His hands were grabbing the sheets, searching for purchase, while the claws on his back dug into his flesh like daggers, gouging him, so that the sweat that dropped down from the beast above him burned in the wounds like acid.

He was close to passing out, his body cramped with the need for air, but then he was let up for a second to draw a short breath that turned into a hoarse desperate cry when the fiery brand was thrust into him even deeper.  He was pinned to the bed like a butterfly, like a beetle, completely vanquished, inside and out.

The beast had bottomed out now, paused for a while and then cruelly started moving to and fro and right and left without ever pulling out the slightest bit, grunting “Take it, little one!  Take it!” and there was nothing he could do but take it.  He stopped fighting, stopped moving at all.  His legs were pushed further apart and then the fucking started for real, so powerful that his teeth were rattling and his limbs were flaying as if he were a marionette in the hands of a cruel child.

An eternity later he felt a hot searing flood inside him, and the beast pulled out and it felt like his guts were pulled out, too.  He shrieked a last time, before a black unconsciousness claimed him.

Kris came to screaming and bathed in sweat.  His legs were tangled in the sheets and he was panting heavily.  And of course, he was hard, and cursing himself for it.  Shit!  He hadn’t had a dream like that in ages!  What had brought this on?

At his side, the Sultan moved.  “What’s the matter?  Bad dream?  Come on, I’ll make it better.”

He pulled Kris closer against his hard body.  “Aw, you’re all tense!  You can’t go back to sleep like this.”

Kris sighed.  “No, probably not.”

“Well then.  Since you woke me up… How about a little action to wear us out, hm?  You’ll be all loose and relaxed afterward.”  He jabbed his already hardening cock against Kris’ stomach.  “Come on, suck it!”

The terror from his nightmare still coursing through his veins, Kris complied.  After all this time he knew exactly what the Sultan liked.  Long, wet licks around the shaft, with a lot of spit; he loved it when Kris whole face got wet and shiny with it, so that Kris could rub his cheeks all over the Sultan’s cock, too.  This usually went on for quite a while.  At the Sultan’s signal Kris would then concentrate on the cockhead, tiny, catlike licks there, trying to get as much precome on his face as possible because the Sultan enjoyed Kris looking totally wanton and shameless.

At one point, the Sultan would take over, gripping Kris’ hair firmly to hold him in place, and would begin to deep-fuck his throat mercilessly.  When that happened, Kris could only hang on, choking and suffocating on his master’s thick flesh.  Every once in a while the Sultan would keep his cock buried deep, until Kris was close to fainting, before pulling back out and allowing his concubine to breathe.  The Sultan loved this game, loved having Kris helpless at his mercy, loved to draw it out endlessly, while Kris tried his best to get the Sultan to come down his throat.

This time, he didn’t quite succeed.  Panting heavily himself, the Sultan pushed Kris away.  “On your knees, now, face down.  Hold yourself open for me!”

Immediately Kris obeyed, kneeling down on the mattress, both hands on his ass, pulling himself open as wide as he could, so that the Sultan could plunge into him with one mighty thrust, like he preferred it.  It was a good thing that he kept himself lubed-up thoroughly at all times, so the hurt was more bearable, and anyway, the pain went away fast.

“Yes, please, yes!” Kris screamed as the Sultan pounded into him, nailing his prostrate every fucking time.  He was close already, they both were.  “Come on, take it!” the Sultan growled, pulling him up flush against himself.  “Come on my cock, NOW!”

His body surrendering, Kris came, floundering, shooting come all over the sheets, and the Sultan followed shortly after, Kris’ clenching muscles milking his seed out of him.

They collapsed on the bed, both completely exhausted.  “So good,” the Sultan panted.  “You always take my cock so good!  And you love it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love it.  I love it when you take me hard,” Kris whispered hoarsely.

The Sultan chuckled.  “I know you can’t get enough of my big cock, little one.  But now I need my rest.  Clean us up, then you may sleep, too.  I bet I’ve worn you out enough!”

Tired and worn-out though he was, Kris didn’t sleep another minute that night.  His mind was in turmoil, about the nightmare and what had happened afterward.  It was that concubine’s fault, he decided at last.  He was the one who had stirred up his calm waters.  Maybe setting the prince up against that man was not enough.  The concubine had to go, once and for all, no matter what it took.


	7. Chapter 7

The prince had left Adam in peace, true to his words.  Too much peace, even.  After two days of silence Adam had enough.  Sure, he’d told him he wanted to take things slow, but somehow he’d expected more of a reaction.  And, really, he was bored.  There was nothing to do in this palace in the middle of nowhere.  Though if he was being honest, the real reason was the prince himself.  He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somehow Tommy had wriggled his way into Adam’s heart.  He’d even dreamed of him last night.  He didn’t remember the details, but there was a picture of the prince lying naked on deep-purple silk sheets that seemed to be etched into Adam’s mind—all that soft, pale skin, the slender, elegant limbs, and, most of all, Tommy’s wide, imploring eyes.  Damn.

“Say, Yasin,” he asked his servant that morning, “If I wanted to see the prince, how would I go about it?”

“Mm,” Yasin mused, looking up from Adam’s left foot whose nails he was painting purple.  “Normally I would drop a hint at Adjani, so that he could mention it to the prince and then he’d send you an invitation.  Only, Adjani isn’t too pleased with you at the moment.  He thinks you’re a bad influence, and that you’ll make the prince unhappy.  So that possibility’s kind of out.”

“Doesn’t he know that we made up?” Adam asked.  “Anyway, can’t I just send him an invitation to come and see me?”

“You?  Invite him??”  Yasin’s mind seemed to boggle at that concept.  “No, you can’t.  That simply isn’t done.  A concubine doesn’t invite their master.  It isn’t the proper way.  You have to wait for his call.”  Done painting the nails, he put Adam’s foot down.  “Careful, it isn’t dry yet.  Give me the other one.”

Adam propped his right foot up.  “Well, not much between the prince and me has been done the way you consider proper.  Let’s say I wrote a letter to him; would you deliver it?”

Yasin replied without hesitation.  “Of course I would.”  There was a slight smirk in his face, as he added, “It will also be my pleasure to smuggle it past Adjani, who checks the prince’s mail before passing it on.  That’s what I did with your other notes, too.”

“Ha!  Awesome!” Adam said, satisfied.  “Thank you, Yasin.  You’re a treasure, you know that?”

His servant smiled.  “It’s me who needs to say ‘thank you’.  Life here was boring before you turned up.”  He finished the second foot and got up to put the lacquer away.  “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, there is,” Adam said.  “I want to give the prince a small present.  Do I have any funds at my disposal for such purposes?”

Yasin looked thoughtful.  “I need to check into that.  Usually your master would set up an account for you to use.  I’m not sure if the prince has done that yet.  If he hasn’t, we can always take something out of the royal treasury.  What did you have in mind?”

Adam told him.  Yasin’s eyes went round with surprise before mirth took over.  “You’ll kill him yet!” he gasped, breaking into giggles.

One hour later he returned to Adam’s chambers, having found the desired items in the treasury.  Still smirking now and then, he wrapped them up in red silk paper and decorated them with a golden bow.  Adam didn’t compose much of an invitation to go with them.  Just the words “Come see me tonight.  –Adam”

Yasin brought Adam to Shahin for the necessary preparations and then went to deliver the package to the prince.

 

~~~~~

 

Shahin was delighted to hear that Adam planned to spend a private evening with the prince.  “I’ll make you irresistible,” he promised.  “This time he’ll succumb to your charms.”  Wisely, Adam didn’t tell him that that pretty much had happened already, and that rather the prince would be the one to try and seduce him.

After a full body scrub plus depilation in the steam bath, Shahin led Adam into the massage room.  “You have to wait a bit, the masseur is still busy,” he explained.

Adam settled down on a comfortable sofa and Shahin left.  The light in the room seemed muted somehow.  From somewhere he could hear the sounds of a slow mellow tune being played on a sitar and from behind a folding screen in the far corner of the room the wet clapping of a deep massage going on.

“You’re very tense, Kris,” he heard suddenly.

“My master was very passionate tonight,” a soft voice replied.

Kris?  Ah, Adam remembered.  The Sultan’s concubine.  He had seen him at dinner the other day.  Though ‘seen’ didn’t really describe it, he thought, recalling the small, heavily veiled figure at the Sultan’s side.

A pause ensued.

Then a hiss.  “Ah, be careful!”

“You are hurt!”

“It’s nothing, just a bit tender.”

“A bit tender?  Tsk!  Wait a second, I still have that antiseptic cream here.  It will help with the pain, too.  Relax, I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

Adam heard another hiss, then a moan.  “Oh, that’s better already.  Thank you, Dimitri.”

“I’m always glad to help you, Kris.  But you really need to take better care of yourself!”

“What do you want me to do?  Tell him ‘no?’”  It didn’t even sound bitter, just matter-of-fact.

“You shouldn’t let him hurt you,” the masseur said quietly.

“If I say ‘no’, he’ll hurt me more.”

Another pause.  Adam wondered if he should leave.  Clearly this conversation wasn’t meant for his ears.  But where should he go?  Back into the changing room?  Maybe he should stay, though, he might learn something useful.  He was still debating the issue with himself when the servant spoke again.

“But, Kris, you’re the favorite!  The Sultan totally spoils you!  He’s just as infatuated with you as he was with the Sultana, and he loved her!”

“She was the mother of his only child.  I’m a slave he broke to his will.”

“That was years ago, Kris.”

“True.  But I haven’t forgotten it.”  This time, the other concubine’s voice sounded harsh.

“Maybe it is different for you,” Dimitri admitted, “But I’m sure he doesn’t remember it that way.  Probably thinks he conquered you with his manly prowess.”

Adam could hear them both chuckle at that and even he had to smile a bit.

Until Kris spoke again.  “And why wouldn’t he think that--with the way he has me under him, whimpering and begging for mercy?  That’s what he can’t get enough of, the feeling that he has total power over me.  And that’s how it is.  If I begged him to spare me for a few nights, he’d just smile at me and take me that bit harder--if only to prove that I still want it, even if it hurts.”

There was a long silence after that, followed by a rustle of cloth, and then, before Adam could tear his eyes away, a young, slender man came around the screen, clad only in a towel wrapped around his hips.  He was walking rather carefully, as if he was hurting, and heading toward the exit when he noticed Adam on the sofa.  The man froze, shock clearly written on his handsome face.

And it wasn’t only his face that was handsome, Adam realized.  Though the other man was on the smaller side, his body was perfectly muscled and very well defined.  There was not an ounce of fat on him, and no body hair Adam could see.  His nipples were pierced with delicate golden rings, as was his navel, and a golden chain with an amulet hung from his neck.  He had warm brown eyes and glorious hair, light brown and glossy, falling down his back in long silky waves.  Beautiful.

Adam could tell the exact moment the other man realized that Adam probably had overheard the conversation that had occurred during the massage.  The man’s lovely face blushed with shame, and a deep resentment began to burn in his eyes before he quickly tore his gaze away and carried on walking.  He had nearly reached the door, when Adam came out of his trance and jumped up to run after him.

“Hey, wait!” Adam called.

The other man stopped and, very slowly, turned around.  “What do you want?”

The expression on Kris’ face was guarded, forbidding even, but Adam didn’t let that deter him.  “I am sorry for overhearing you earlier.  You are Kris, right?  The Sultan’s, uh, concubine?”

“I am the Sultan’s favorite, yes,” the other man replied.

“My name is Adam.  I’m--”

“I know who you are,” Kris interrupted him, intense dislike obvious on his face.

“Listen,” Adam tried, “maybe we can have coffee together, or something?  I’d really like to talk to you.  Or would that be improper?”

Kris took a step back.  “Not improper, no.  But I don’t see what we would have to talk about.”

Adam hesitated, not sure how much to say and how to put it.  “I thought we had some things in common, maybe,” he said at last, choosing his words carefully.

Kris shook his head disdainfully.  “From what I’ve heard, you’re just a badly-behaved, poorly trained slave--or a whore who rather overestimates himself.  No matter what, we’ve got nothing in common, you and me.”  He turned around, continuing his way to the door.  He nearly was through when Adam yelled after him, “Is being a well-trained fucktoy so much better?  At least I’m not too sore to walk straight!”

The door shut with a clang.  “Shit!” Adam swore.  That could have gone better.

 

~~~~~

 

Back in the changing room Kris threw on his clothes as fast as he could.  Then he hurried back to the safety of his rooms, where he collapsed on his bed in turmoil.  The cheek of that bastard!  How dare he pity him?!  Because that was what he had seen in the other man’s eyes: pity, concern, caring.  Sure, there had been appreciation, too, and desire.  If he had learned one thing in those many years it was to recognize when someone wanted him.  It was his diminutive stature, he supposed, that made him something like catnip for other men.

Since he belonged to the Sultan, he was safe from them.  The Sultan didn’t usually share his concubines, hadn’t shared Kris with anybody in a long time.  Not since Kris had become his favorite, anyway, and Kris intended for it to stay that way.  It was all the safety he could get in the palace.  He never dwelt on what would happen if the Sultan ever tired of him, and he worked hard to avoid that ever happening.

Suddenly worried, Kris tried to recall his conversation with Dimitri.  What if the other concubine really had overheard all of it?  What if he told anyone?  Oh, God.  Kris’ words almost amounted to treason.  Even now this Adam could be talking to Shahin, who was prone to gossip, or to Yasin, or even worse, to the prince.  Kris had to prevent that.  He had to take action, fast.

 

~~~~~

 

Adam was back with Shahin, getting dressed for the prince’s visit that evening, when Yasin brought him a message.  It read: “Sorry for earlier.  I changed my mind.  Please join me this afternoon for coffee in my rooms.”  It wasn’t signed, which Adam understood.  He was surprised and rather curious about the sudden change of mind, but at the same time looking forward to meeting Kris again.  Well, it had to wait.  There was no way he could squeeze Kris into his schedule, not today, when the prince would hopefully visit.  So he sent Yasin back with a carefully worded excuse and the offer of a rain check for another day.

 

~~~~~

 

It was evening already, and there had been no message from the prince, no knock at Adam’s door.  He even had begun having doubts that the prince would show up at all, when he suddenly heard something.  Not at the door, like he would have expected.  Instead there was a faint scratching noise coming from his bedroom.  Puzzled, he went to investigate, but he couldn’t find anything.  Then he heard it again, seemingly coming from behind the full-length mirror right next to the great wooden wardrobe.  Either he had mice, or there was something hidden behind that wall.  Puzzled, he examined the mirror’s gilded frame, checking out the ornaments for hidden switches.  Finally he found it: a button in the center of a stylized flower.  He pushed it in, which took some force, and suddenly the whole mirror swung backward into the wall.

The prince appeared, a bit dusty and coughing slightly.  “Damn, the switch on my side’s jammed,” he explained, stepping into the room.  Coughing again, he brushed the dust off his shoulders.  “Hidden passage—I didn’t want to be seen.”

Adam nodded speechlessly, taking in the sight before him.  Though ‘sight’ was too weak a word.  Vision--yes, that was more fitting.  The prince looked like something right out of the Arabian Nights--or from that TV-series whose reruns Adam had sometimes watched.  Yes, that was it: The prince looked like a genie.  Unlike the series’ protagonist, this genie was undeniably male, even with the turquoise diaphanous veils and the black kohl around his eyes.  The sizeable bulge outlined in the tight shorts Tommy wore under the veils was a dead give-away.  But Adam had the feeling that this genie was just as ready to fulfill his wishes.

Adam had to swallow.  “I see why you didn’t want to run the corridors like that,” he remarked, voice very dry.

The prince bit his lip.  “Adjani would never have let me.  This-–“ he gestured at his clothes “--is not how a royal prince is supposed to look.”

“So why are you dressed like that, if it’s so inappropriate?”

“I was hoping you’d like it.  I want to please you, you know?”  The prince smiled self-deprecatingly.  “But another reason is that I like it.  I love dressing up in beautiful clothes and I love painting my face.  If it were possible I’d look like that a lot of the time.  And, you said before that we don’t know each other very well, so I figured I’d show you the real me.”

Though Tommy was flustered and nervous he didn’t cower and his posture was straight and upright, almost challenging.  Adam’s hands itched with the urge to rip those veils off him, like, right now.

“The ‘real you’ does please me, Tommy,” he admitted.  “You’re so beautiful like this.  If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.”  Gently he took the prince’s hand and put it on his own rock hard cock, pressing it down on it.

“Oh my god,” Tommy whispered, falling down to his knees instantly to bury his face into Adam’s groin.  “Please, Adam, will you take me tonight?  I want you so much--my body burns for you!  I can’t think of anything else anymore.  Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it!”

Adam hesitated, but the intensity of the prince’s words got to him.

“Can’t you forget our circumstances, just for one night?” the prince pleaded, seeing Adam’s resolve weaken.

“How could I?” Adam said.  “I can’t forget how much I depend on your goodwill, or your father’s.  When one word of you could have me killed, or worse?  I’ve already been called a whore today.”  He moved to back away, but the prince jumped up and held him back by the sleeve.

“I’ve been called that, too, this week,” he said, “for throwing myself at you.  For behaving as if I was the concubine, and you the prince.”  He looked up at Adam imploringly.  “Please, Adam.  Please!  I swear, if there’s a chance for you to escape, I’ll let you take it.  I’ll let you go.  But until then, you can be safe with me.”  He reached out, gently touching Adam’s face.  “I’m giving myself to you.  Don’t you want me?”

Outside, the wind suddenly picked up, and somewhere in the palace a door slammed shut.  In their room it was quiet now, but the silence was charged with electricity.  The prince’s eyes were huge in his face, wide open and absolutely guileless.  Like in Adam’s dream.  Even if Adam’s heart had been made of stone, he wouldn’t have been able to deny him.  As it was, his heart seemed to be made of taffy right now.

“Of course I want you,” he whispered.  “I’ll show you how much.”

He pushed Tommy backward until his knees hit the bed and he fell onto it.  With one determined rip the translucent veils were gone and Tommy was left in a short black tank-top and suede pants of the same color, both so tight they seemed to be painted on.

“I see you’re wearing my presents,” Adam remarked, indicating the small circles showing under the fabric of the tank-top.  “Take that shirt off and show me!”

Slowly the prince complied, careful not to nudge his nipples too much in the process.  Adam watched, captivated.  The piercings still looked still rather fresh and the area had to be very tender.  The golden rings Adam had given to the prince were a lot more massive than the barbells he’d worn before, and they made the prince look absolutely wanton.

Adam knelt on the bed beside him.  “I like them like this, so swollen and sensitive.  Bet it hurt like a bitch putting the new rings in.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said.  “It did.  But I love how heavy they feel.”  Tentatively he touched his own nipples and moaned.

Adam took Tommy’s hands in one of his own and pulled him down, so that he was stretched out on his back, hands at the headboard.  “But you put them in all the same,” he stated, regarding the pretty picture with some satisfaction.

Tommy blushed.  “I didn’t mind the pain so much.  I… I just imagined it was you, doing that to me.”  He lowered his eyes, not able to meet Adam’s gaze any longer.  Adam bent down and gave one nipple a long, wet lick.

“Ah, shit!” the prince moaned as his cock, which had been hard all that time, gave a little excited jump.  Adam licked the other nipple, with the same effect.  Alternating between them, he worked the prince into a sweaty, quivering mess.  Tommy went from cursing to begging and back, his whole body was bathed in sweat and he was panting like he had run a hundred miles.  There was a wet spot visible on the suede of his shorts, and it was growing bigger by the minute.

“Maybe we should lose the shorts,” Adam said.  The prince moved to comply, but Adam pushed his hands down decisively, giving the wrists a good squeeze in the process.  “Uh uh.  I’ll do it.”

Tommy sank back.  Adam popped the button open and slowly pulled the fly down.  The prince sighed in relief as his cock finally sprang free.  Adam could empathize; his own member was achingly hard, too.

He pulled the shorts down and flung them away.  Then he gave the prince a thorough once-over.  Tommy waited, with baited breath.  His hands were balled to tight fists, but he kept them where Adam had put them.

“Pretty as a picture, sweet prince,” Adam said at long last.

Tommy smiled.  “Touch me, please,” he sighed, pushing his cock up at Adam.

“Oh, I will,” Adam replied.  “But first things first.”

He went to extinguish the lights, plunging the room in absolute darkness.  Then he opened one of the double doors that led to the balcony.  Immediately the lights from the garden cast the bedroom in a warm orangey glow and the twittering of birds and the rustling of palm leaves filled the room.  A soft breeze stirred the curtains and brought with it heavy fragrant air that was almost cloying with its subtle hint of impending decay.

The prince shifted.  “Can’t we keep the door closed, Adam?  Everybody in the garden will be able to hear me.”

Adam smirked.  “Then you’ll have to be very quiet, won’t you, Tommy?”  Still fully clothed, he knelt back down on the bed beside the prince.  Without further preamble he dove down on his leaking cock, taking it deep until it hit the back of his throat, and then, with some concentration, deeper still.

“Fuck!” Tommy groaned, and then again, “Oh, fuck!”, when Adam started humming and swallowing around his length alternately.  In no time he began to buck up into his mouth, moaning heavily.  Adam pulled back.

“Shit, no!  Please, Adam!” Tommy whined, now fucking empty air with his angry red member.  Adam waited until Tommy had settled down before he started over.  This time Tommy managed to keep still under his ministrations, although his whole body was racked with involuntary shudders.  Adam swallowed him down to the root, keeping the suction strong.  The prince was moaning continuously now, all muscles tensed.

When Adam finally pressed his middle finger down on his entrance, the prince wailed and came, shooting his come down Adam’s throat.  Adam pulled slightly back, managing to get every last drop of it.  Then he pulled off, giving the sensitive cockhead one last nip.  The prince groaned like a man dying as another drop of pearly come welled up from his slit.

“Shit, Adam.  Enough!  You’re killing me here.”  He lay there absolutely boneless, panting and shivering.  At last he lifted his hands away from the headboard and pushed up on his elbows.  “That was so hot!  You absolutely have to show me how to do this!”

“It will be my pleasure” Adam smiled.  “It isn’t that difficult, but it takes some practice.”

“Which you’ve had?”  The prince didn’t look too happy at the thought.

“Yeah, plenty,” Adam replied.  “Do you mind?”

“Well--”  Tommy hesitated.  “I guess it’s good that one of us knows what he’s doing.  Still, since you are my first for really everything, it makes me feel, well… awkward, you know?  Like I’m an inexperienced child and you’re my teacher.  And you’ve made it pretty clear anyway that you’re going to be the one who pulls the shots here between us--so I maybe feel a bit powerless, yeah.  But it’s okay,” he hastened to add when he saw Adam’s frown.  “I know your reasons and I do understand why it has to be this way.”

Adam lay back beside Tommy, satisfied.  “Well, as long as we’re clear on this—“

“We are,” the prince said firmly.  He lay back, throwing Adam a hot, sultry glance.  “But you’re still dressed, and you haven’t come yet.  Shouldn’t we do something about that?”

“Eager, are you?”  Adam smiled.  “You may undress me now, prince.  And then we’ll see if you can take me.”

Tommy’s face broke out in a huge smile.  “Oh, yes, please!  I want that so, so much!”

Carefully he took off Adam’s vest, then the blue silk shirt.  When he reached out for Adam’s pants, though, he hesitated, his hands trembling with nerves.  Adam nodded at him encouragingly, lifting his hips slightly so that Tommy could pull his pants down and flip them to the floor.  Tommy’s eyes flew over Adam’s body, centering on his groin.  He bit his lips worriedly.  “You’re so much bigger than me!  How is that ever going to fit?”

Adam grinned evilly.  “You’re just going to take it, boy, and if I have to split you in half in the process.  But don’t worry, you’ll be begging for it.”

The prince gulped, seemingly speechless, but at the same time his cock jumped at Adam’s words and began to fill up again.  “That was a joke, by the way,” Adam muttered.  “I won’t hurt you, not more than necessary, that is.  Of course, there’s always some pain, the first few times.”

“I know,” Tommy said.  “I’ve read about it.”  He looked up at Adam from under long, dark lashes.  “And I think I might like a bit of pain, you know?”

“That’ll come in handy,” Adam said.  “Because I’ll certainly enjoy seeing you suffer a bit, Tommy.”

The prince pushed his hardening cock up at Adam.  “Please, no more talking.  I can’t bear it!  Tell me what to do!”

“Pushy,” Adam said.  “Well, come on then, spread your legs.  Show me your eager little hole.”

The prince complied, parting his legs and lifting them up until his knees were almost close to his ears.

“Very good.  Stay like that.”

Adam took the jar of lube from the bedside table and put a glob on his finger.  Then he carefully spread it around the prince’s sphincter.  The muscle quivered and clenched whenever he touched it.

“Please, now!” Tommy begged.

Slowly, Adam pushed his finger in.  The prince was very tight around the digit, but also soft and hot.  He sighed as Adam moved his finger back and forth slowly, and finally he begged for more, so Adam introduced a second finger.  Again it was tight at first, but Tommy relaxed around him pretty fast.  He had to want it a lot, Adam thought; or maybe he had practiced with his own fingers.  Anyway, when the prince was taking three fingers easily and moaning and pushing up continuously, Adam deemed him ready for the real thing.

He coated his cock liberally with the lube, and started pushing in.  The tip went in easily enough, but Adam’s cock was substantial, and after the first few inches the prince became very still under him.

“Breathe,” Adam said.  He hovered in place, waiting for Tommy to adapt to his girth.

“Feels so much bigger than it looks,” the prince gasped helplessly.  He was so tight around Adam, and every slight twitch of Adam’s cock set off another round of clenching.

“Push out, it will help.  And touch yourself.”

The prince took his cock which had gone a bit soft and started jacking it lightly.

“Okay,” he said after a while, “gimme more.”

Slowly Adam pushed further in, not stopping this time, even as Tommy gave a loud moan.  The prince was like a marble glove around him, tight like a vise.  His whole body was flushed, his hair clinging to his sweaty face.  He looked wanton and debauched, his whole body was flushed and his hair clung to his sweaty face.  Every exhale was accompanied by a soft whimper he couldn’t quite suppress.  Adam saw that he had stopped touching himself, instead he kept his hands up at the headboard, exactly where Adam had put them earlier.  But he was back to full hardness, his cock quivering and weeping with precome.

“Fuck me, Adam, please!”

Adam pulled out and pushed back in, just a few inches at first, but Tommy went crazy under him, opening his mouth for a scream that would have had the guards on them in seconds if Adam hadn’t pressed a hand on his mouth to smother it.  As it was, the resulting whine was so sexy that Adam couldn’t help it; he started fucking the prince hard and deep, nailing his pleasure spot every single time, judging from his behavior.

“Fuck, Adam,” Tommy wailed, “I think I’m gonna—“

And then he suddenly was shooting his come everywhere, his untouched cock jerking wildly in the process.  Adam fucked him through it, mercilessly, until the clenching of the prince’s muscles sent him over the edge, too.  It was amazing, the prince’s muscles were literally milking the come out of him.  In the end his trembling arms wouldn’t support him any longer and he collapsed over the prince.

They lay like this a while, in a sweaty tangle, but then Tommy moved under him, or tried to, and Adam pulled out carefully and sprawled out next to him.  As their panting grew gradually quieter Adam slowly began to notice the noises from outside again.  An incoming breeze swept over them, cooling their sweaty bodies.  It was a moment of utter bliss.

Tommy reached over and took Adam’s hand in his, squeezing hard.

“Thank you for that,” he said, voice rough.  “It was amazing.  Everything I’d hoped for, and more.  I know you don’t really feel that way for me, but somehow you still made me feel loved.”

With an affectionate smile Adam gathered the prince into his arms.  “Tommy, baby.  You’ve done me an honor, giving yourself to me like this.  You’re so sweet and beautiful and generous!  I really wish we’d met under different circumstances.”  He leaned over to give him a short kiss, but Tommy opened up to him so willingly it turned into something more, tender and intimate.  When the kiss ended, they kept looking into each other’s eyes for a long time.  Somehow, none of them seemed to be able to tear his gaze away.

It was Adam who finally got up and fetched some wet cloths to clean them off.  Afterward they snuggled closely together again.  They even fell asleep like that, tangled around each other, and stayed like that all through the night, always touching, never moving apart.

 

~~~~~

 

When he saw them kissing tenderly at the end, Kris couldn’t bear it any longer.  He stepped back from the hidden door from where he’d been watching them all that time, and fled back to his chambers, his heart and soul in deep distress with what he’d seen.  There had been so much love there, so much tenderness and caring!  He’d found it almost unbearable to watch.  He felt so much grieve and sorrow; for them and for himself, and for what had to happen.  When he finally was lying in his bed he wept bitterly, always praying that the Sultan wouldn’t call for him tonight.  He didn’t think he’d be able to bear his touch, not now when he’d seen how different it could be.  He only wished that he’d never met Adam, that the other man never had set foot into the palace.  He wished he could undo it all.

Well, maybe he could.  Some of it, anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

There had been neither nightingale nor lark or whatever, and only maybe the slightest hint of dawn outside, when Yasin came crashing into Adam’s rooms, wringing his hands excitedly.

“What?!” Adam groaned.  “Is the palace on fire?  Are the Huns attacking?”  He checked the bed nervously, before remembering that the prince had slunk away through the hidden corridor maybe an hour ago.  He sniffed.  Those sheets really had to go.  Nothing against male musk, but this was a bit much.

Yasin noticed it, too.

“What have you been up to?!” he squealed, sounding like a worried queen mother.

Adam shrugged nonchalantly, but couldn’t suppress a smug smile.

Yasin stemmed his fists into his waist.  “Well, well!“  He came closer and whispered in what he probably thought a conspiratorial way, “The prince, yes?  You had him, yes?  Yes?”  He nodded at Adam encouragingly, grinning as if Christmas had come early.

“Yes.”  Adam couldn’t help smiling himself.

Yasin clapped his hands.  “Oh, thank the gods!  I knew it!  And just at the right moment, too!”  He took a deep breath.  “You can’t imagine what’s happened!  A messenger has arrived just an hour ago.  The Sheikh of Dilmun will visit the Sultan; something about state affairs; I don’t know, and it isn’t important.  But tomorrow evening there will be a huge reception, and that means you’ll have to be present.  Which means also a whole lot of preparations, new robes of course, the question of jewelry, and you absolutely need another brush-up on proper behavior.”

At the end of that diatribe Yasin was rather breathless, but he was beaming at Adam enthusiastically.  When Adam didn’t move, he waved both hands hectically.  “Get up!  Get up!  There’s so much to be done!”

“Forget it,“ Adam said.  “I need a few hours more sleep, so leave me in peace.  You know good behavior doesn’t come easy to me, right?  Don’t come back before noon, and then bring a good hearty lunch.  None of that fruit and pastry crap!  And leave the prince in peace, too.  If I hear you or Adjani have been pestering him, I’ll get back to you!”

With that he turned around and, drawing the comforter over his head, went back to sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

Lunch brought a pleasant surprise in form of the prince, who had opted to accompany Yasin.  Right at the door he took the heavy tablet from the servant and carried it to Adam’s bedside table himself.  He looked incredibly young at that moment, his face clear and content, and happy.  Adam realized he had put that look on the prince’s face, and it made him feel all warm and tingly inside.

“Hello,” Tommy said, smiling shyly.

“Hello to you, too, beautiful,” Adam replied, smiling back.

“Thanks for getting Adjani to leave me in peace.  Yasin told me you ordered them not to disturb me.  And that was good--I was really rather tired.”

Adam smirked.  “Wore you out, did I?”

Tommy blushed, sitting down gingerly at Adam’s side.  “Yeah.  I’m a bit sore, and I hurt in strange places.  But it’s a good kind of hurt.  Do you think we can do it again, tonight?”

“Maybe, if you’re not too sore.  We’ll see, okay?  Now show me what you’ve brought me.  I’m kind of hungry.“  He reached for a piece of flat bread which was filled with something.  “What’s this?“ he asked, lifting the top part off.  “Okay, let’s see.  There’s a steak, salad, sauce, mustard--oh, is this supposed to be a burger?”

“Yes,” Tommy said, beaming.  “I sent a description to the kitchen so they could prepare it for you.”

Adam couldn’t help smiling back at him.  Seeing the prince like that, all glowing and happy, sent sparks of warmth right through his heart.  Still smiling, they both dug in and demolished the burgers in no time at all.

Afterward Adam pulled the prince close for a short but passionate kiss.  “Thank you, Tommy.  You can’t know how much I’ve lusted after this!  Nearly as much as I do after you.”

The prince looked away.  “Do you really mean that?  I mean, I--, well I know why you’re being so nice to me.  It’s because I said I’d let you go.  Probably you even think I’ll help you get away.”

There was so much sadness on the prince’s face, Adam instinctively took his hand.  “I’ll be honest with you: When you told me you’d let me go, it made things easier for me, because I didn’t feel so much like a prisoner anymore.  And yes, I’m hoping you’ll find it in you to help me escape.  But that’s not the whole truth.  You must know that I am attracted to you, and I really wish we’d met under different circumstances.  Last night I made love to you.  Do you think that was all faked?”

The prince looked down.  “No, I…  I’m sorry.  You’re right.  Even I can tell that that was the real thing.  It’s just—I guess I’m kind of torn, you know?  I thought I’d be content having at least experienced these things.  But now that I have tasted it, I don’t want to give it up.  I don’t want to give up on you!”  He almost bit out the last words and he seemed really desperate.

Adam put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.  “Tommy, baby.  This is probably just infatuation because I was your first.  That’s normal.  You’ll get over it when I’m gone.”

The prince squirmed out of Adam’s arms and jumped up.  “How can you belittle my feelings like that?  I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you!  But obviously you don’t feel the same!”  He paced over to the windows, his back turned toward Adam.

Adam walked over to stand behind him.  “You don’t even really know me, Tommy.  Sure, we share something, but how can this be love?  Isn’t it rather an arrangement whose terms we both have agreed on?”  He laid his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, gently.  “But I swear, if I didn’t feel anything for you I’d never have touched you at all.”

The prince sighed, leaning back against him.  “I’m behaving like a child, aren’t I?”  He turned around to look up at Adam, his eyes sad and full of sorrow.  “My feelings are putting me through the wringer.  I’ll try to be more grown-up about it.  But for now, could you please just give me a hug?”

Adam could, and they stayed like that a long time.

 

~~~~~

 

Adam wanted to smash something, very badly.  Preferably the bowl of pumpkin soup he was carrying, and preferably on the Sultan’s thick head.  Only the thought that he probably would be drawn and quartered for it held him back.  Who in all seven hells had had that stupid idea of having the favorites serve at the Sultan’s table?  And why was Adam wearing next to nothing, while Kris’ veils covered everything except for his eyes?  And what were these bells at his ankles for?  They drove him batty and made him want to kill Christmas elves.

Gritting his teeth and faking a smile with pure brutal force of will he set down the bowl in front of Sheik Hassani, whose eyes he had felt on himself during the whole evening.  What now touched his ass, though, was more than just a gaze.  It wasn’t even subtle; the Sheikh was kneading his behind as if checking out a horse, dammit.  With a determined sway of his hips Adam pulled away from the bastard’s grip and continued serving the soup.  When he was finally done he settled down on the cushions at the feet of his master.  The Sultan lifted his spoon and everybody started eating.

The soup was hot and spicy, tasting of cinnamon, ginger and curcuma and something tart that Adam couldn’t define.  It was not really unpleasant, but halfway through he had to force himself to keep eating.  He was nervous anyway, and an empty stomach was not going to help.  When everybody was done, servants removed the empty bowls and Adam and Kris served the next course, an oriental dish with rice and pieces of mutton that were more fat than meat.  Adam didn’t like it and only picked at it; nonetheless he was beginning to feel a bit queasy when he later poured the mocha which accompanied the baklava.

He was glad when he finally could settle down on his cushions and lean back against the prince’s legs.  Tommy rubbed his shoulders lightly.  Adam shivered.  Earlier he’d thought the room stiflingly hot; now it suddenly seemed chilly.

Sheikh Hassani, who had been in deep discussion with the Sultan, sat back and turned to the prince.  “Prince Thomas, I should like to request the services of your favorite for the night.”  He smiled at them, showing a lot of teeth.  Adam froze; at the same time Tommy’s grip on his shoulders tightened.

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,“ the prince replied.  “My concubine hasn’t completed his training yet.  We can’t impose his inferior performance on a guest.  My father will gladly choose someone more suited for you from the riches of his harem.”

The Sheikh narrowed his eyes.  “Oh, but I must insist.  I won’t expect perfection from him, I am sure he will make up for it with eagerness and passion.”  He smiled coldly.

“Of course we will oblige you,” declared the Sultan with a meaningful glance at his son.  “Hospitality is sacred in our country.  Adam will serve you to the best of his abilities.”  The words ‘Or else’ were heavily implied in his speech.

Adam flinched, hearing the Sultan’s words.  He wanted to jump up, or at least utter a protest, but suddenly his head was buzzing, his brain fuzzy.  He was breaking out in a cold sweat and his limbs didn’t seem to obey him any longer.  “I—I don’t--“ he stammered, before he crumbled down sideways, puking out everything he had ingested that evening.  Then his whole world turned black.

 

~~~~~

 

Kris observed with well hidden satisfaction how the other concubine’s limp body was carried out of the chamber.  Servants were busy cleaning up the mess and soon it was as if nothing had happened.  The prince had left, his face full of worry, ignoring the angry gazes of his father.  In the corridor someone was shouting for a physician.

“I can only beg your forgiveness, Sheikh Hassani,” the Sultan said.  “My son’s concubine seems to have been befallen by a sudden illness.  In exchange for his services I will offer you the most beautiful jewel of my harem: my own favorite, Kris.“  He pulled Kris’ veils away, exposing him to the whole room.  Except for a small golden pouch Kris was completely naked.  When the Sultan snipped his fingers Kris automatically rose to present himself gracefully to the Sheikh.  Slowly he turned around, swaying his hips suggestively, letting his hair flow with his movement.  Having finished the turn, he fell to his knees in front of the Sheikh and lowered his gaze submissively, waiting for the verdict.  Though his mind was in turmoil, he didn’t move an inch.  Nothing of the panic and terror he felt at his master’s proposition was showing in his demeanor.

“He will do,“  said the Sheikh, bad grace barely hidden.  Refusing the Sultan’s offer would have been impossibly impolite.  The Sheikh had at least to take Kris to his rooms for the night, what he did with him afterward really didn’t matter much.

And, God, the Sheikh was already angry at having his plans for entertainment thwarted.  There was no accounting for how he would vent his frustration.  A shudder ran through Kris at the thought of being at the mercy of yet another man.  He would have preferred the dubious safety of the Sultan’s bed to this any time.

But just how could his master offer him away so easily?  He’d really believed he meant more to him than that.  Hadn’t he done everything, sacrificed everything he was, to please him?  Painfully, he swallowed down his tears.  At least the poison he’d put in the other concubine’s soup seemed to have worked.  Maybe this was just the price he had to pay.  If so, well, it probably was worth it.

 

~~~~~

 

When he was back in his own rooms after the Sheikh was done with him, he wasn’t quite so sure about that anymore.  His whole body was covered in painful bruises, love bites, as the Sheikh had called them, and he hurt practically everywhere.  Samir was hovering over him, trying with nimble fingers to untangle the leather thread that was bound tightly around Kris’ cock and balls.  It took all of Kris’ strength--what little he still had, after that night--to keep still and not whimper from the pain.

He looked awful down there, swollen and almost purple from having been tied way too tight for way too long.  The Sheikh had denied him any release, no matter how he had begged for it.  The bastard had enjoyed this game immensely, had gotten off on it several times, but he never had done Kris the favor.

So now, as the thread was finally gone, Kris, who was nearly out of his mind from pain, couldn’t help but gingerly put trembling hands on his aching cock to try and bring himself off.  Of course such a thing was forbidden; he wasn’t allowed to touch himself, not down there, anyway.  There was a lot more pain than pleasure involved; still, it didn’t take long until he, caught in a vortex of pain and need, spilled his come over his own hands.

It was sheer bad luck that the Sultan chose that exact moment to enter his favorite’s rooms and so got to watch Kris find pleasure at his own hands.  It was even worse luck that shortly later a message from the court physician arrived, announcing that Prince Thomas’ concubine had been poisoned and that there was a witness who had watched Kris drop something in Adam’s soup.  The last thing Kris saw before his mind shut down in complete and overwhelming panic was the absolutely terrifying expression on his master’s face.

Through the roaring noise in his ears he heard the Sultan shout for his whip; and then sharp, fiery lashes rained down on his shaking, struggling body, coming and coming with no respite at all, until he was too weak from too much pain to even whimper anymore and his body was merely a quivering, bleeding piece of flesh.  Through a bloody haze he realized that he was lifted up and carried away through the maze of the palace’s corridors, far, far down to where the air was moist and chilly, and then he was dropped onto the hard, cold concrete floor of what had to be a cell in the dungeon.  Drifting in and out of consciousness he lost all track of time, caught in the throes of his suffering.


	9. Chapter 9

Everything hurt.  His body seemed to be crawling with fire ants, inside and out.  He was itching all over and his skin burned, but there was nothing he could do about it; his mind was too busy drifting through time and space, and he just couldn’t find a fix point to hold on to.  Sometimes he tasted something bitter on his tongue, and the pain became less sharp for a while.  It felt like being wrapped in cotton, only this kind of cotton seemed to be the kind with shards of glass in it, it scratched and chafed.  Somebody blotted his face with a cool, wet cloth, wiping away the sweat and the tears and that, too, felt like sandpaper on his burning skin, and he wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t.  He was too weak to even twitch.  But he could whimper and moan, and that he did.  It sounded funny in his ears, catlike, and this thought set off a giggling fit which left him even weaker and made his stomach ache.  “It’s the opium,” a voice drowned, trailing off like a record that was running too slowly, and he fell down, down back into the darkness.

When he came to again, it was to the sound of weeping.  Not his own, this time.  He managed to crack one eye open, and though everything was way too bright, he could make out Tommy, curled up in a leather chair, and it was he who was crying.  Adam called out to him, at least that was what he was trying to do, but the only sound leaving his lips was a whisper not louder than a falling leaf.

But Tommy heard it and was out of that chair quick as lightning and kneeling by Adam’s bed, taking his hand.  “You’re awake!” he said, like it was the most wonderful thing in the whole world.  “Oh, Adam, how do you feel?”

It was in that moment that Adam realized that the pain was almost gone.  Only the weakness was still there, but at the moment it didn’t worry him much.  “Water,” he whispered, because he was so parched that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.  Tommy nodded, and put an arm under Adam’s neck, lifting him up so he could drink some water from a cup.

A few sips were all he was able to take; still, it was pure bliss.  Tommy’s hand was trembling as he slowly lowered Adam’s head back down onto the pillow, and there were tears clinging to his eyelashes.  “I thought you’d die,” he said quietly, his voice rough.  “I thought I’d lose you forever.”  He took a deep, sobbing breath.  “You’ve been unconscious for two days.  But now that you’ve woken up you’ll get better.  Everything will be all right now.”

“What happened?” Adam croaked.

Tommy sighed.  “You were poisoned.  Kris put something in your soup.”

Adam was shocked.  “Kris?”  It didn’t seem possible.

Tommy looked grim.  “Yes.  Somebody saw him do it, though, and he has confessed, too.  But don’t worry.  He’s getting his just punishment.  He’s in the dungeons and he’ll never see the light of day again.”

“No,” Adam said, frowning.

Tommy seemed to take it as a confirmation of his words and patted Adam’s shoulder.  “Try to sleep some more, love.  Next time you wake up you’ll feel a lot better.”

‘Love?’ Adam wondered, even as his eyelids became too heavy and sleep claimed him once more.  Strangely, he dreamed of Kris, who was dancing through the desert sands, his long wavy hair flowing around him like water.  The prince was there, too, trying to dig a hole, but the sand always ran back in and he never managed.  In the distance Adam could hear someone laughing and it sounded like a hyena.  It was a terrible laugh, and it made Adam wake up with a gasp.

In the room it was dark, with only a hint of light coming in from outside.  Clothes rustled and Tommy was at his side, offering Adam water again.  This time Adam drank more.  He felt significantly better, especially after nibbling a bit on a salty biscuit.  Tommy watched him all the time; he didn’t seem able to drag his eyes away from Adam even for a second.

When he had finished the biscuit Adam tried again to talk to him.  His voice was better, not so hoarse anymore, but still no louder than a whisper.

“Tommy,” he said, “you need to help Kris.  Please!”

Tommy frowned.  “Help Kris?  Why would I do that?  He nearly killed you!  He deserves everything that’s happening to him.”

“Please,” Adam insisted.  “Look after him.  Help him.  Do it for me.”  He was too weak to say anything more.  The prince seemed dismayed, but replied hesitantly, “Okay.  If that is what you really want?”

Adam nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s.

Tommy stood up.  “Well then.  I’ll go and do it right now.  But only for you, Adam.”

At the door he looked back one last time.

“Thank you,” Adam whispered, managing a weak smile.

 

~~~~~

 

Kris didn’t know for how long he had been lying on the cold concrete floor, still in the place where the guards had dropped him.  At some time someone had brought bread and water and set it down beside him, he hadn’t really noticed when.  He had tried to reach for the water, but he’d been trembling so badly he had knocked it over.  When the thirst got too bad he had licked it off the floor and now there was nothing left.  His body was a burning thing, and he felt worse all the time.

Something was very wrong with him.  He thought he had a fever, and the cell was so very cold.  At some point he had lost control over his bladder and now he was lying in a wet cold pool of his own piss.  He was too weak to even tremble; he knew that was a bad sign.  Oblivion was beckoning to him and he feared that if he followed its call it would be a journey of no return.  His back hurt like it was on fire, and he concentrated on that pain to keep himself conscious.

When he heard steps approaching he thought at first his ears were playing tricks on him.  But then there was the sound of a key turning and the cell door opening and he more felt than saw someone coming in and crouching down by his side.  Through bleary eyes he recognized the prince.  The young man regarded him with a fierce expression.  Kris wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

“Oh my God!” Tommy whispered, letting his gaze travel all over Kris’ body.  He shook his head, blond bangs framing his face like a halo.  The strangest angel Kris had ever seen.  He put a hand on Kris’ hair, stroking it gently.  “God, Kris, this is awful!  I promise to get help.  Please, hold on.”

“No,” Kris tried to say, but then he lost the fight against the pain and knew no more.

 

~~~~~

 

He awoke to even more pain.  Some was skinning him alive, or so it felt.  He whimpered, thinking he was being punished again.  “Shh,” a male voice hushed him, “it’s okay.  Your back needs to be cleaned up.  I know it hurts, but the painkillers are going to kick in soon.”

Painkillers?  So no new form of torture then.  Kris relaxed some at the thought and tried to take stock of his surroundings.  He was still in his cell, but at least not on the hard floor anymore; instead he was lying face down on a kind of pallet.  He saw two drips attached to his left arm and slowly he realized that the pain he felt came from somebody dabbing his back with something that burned.  Behind him he heard that voice talking again.

“The wounds on his back are infected and will leave scars.  They’ll need to be cleaned and treated with antibiotic cream twice a day.  There’s some minor tearing on his anus which needs to be stitched up.  He’s also running a fever.  I’m giving him fluids, antibiotics and pain meds via the IV drips.  Let him have only fluids and soft foods for a while and keep him warm.  Now, can you turn him and hold this leg up, please?  I need room to work.  Nurse, the syringe.”

They handled him very carefully, still, his back hurt like a bitch when he was moved, and having his leg pulled up and held high by the prince and Yasin, whom he noticed only then, nearly made him panic.  His breathing got very fast and each exhale was accompanied by a soft whine.  He was too weak to struggle in any way, so he started pleading with them, in a voice so broken he almost didn’t recognize it as his own.  The prince shushed him, and then Kris felt several pricks at his perineum followed by blessed numbness in at least that part of his aching body.

There was no pain, only a strange pulling feeling as the physician repaired his torn tissues.  When they were done and Kris was lying on his stomach once more, the physician and the nurse packed their things up.  Kris realized he didn’t know either of them.  They had to be from the city, then.

The prince had to have them smuggled in, which meant he was helping Kris behind the Sultan’s back.  That was more than strange, though.  Why should the prince do that?  After Kris had called him and his favorite both whores, after he had killed said favorite?  Not bloody likely.  It had to be some elaborate plot for revenge.  Maybe he wanted to get him well again, so he could punish him some more.  Yes, revenge was a very probable motive.  Kris shivered, and not from cold this time.

“He shouldn’t be left alone,” the physician told the prince.  “Someone has to be with him at all times.  It’ll be touch and go for a while yet.  You have waited almost too long to call me.  A few hours later and there would have been nothing I could have done.”

The prince looked back at Kris, face expressionless.  “I’ll see what I can do.  It won’t be easy, without anybody noticing.”  He reached in his jacket and gave a small bag to the physician.  The rattling of coins could be heard.

“I don’t have to tell you to keep quiet about this,” the prince said then, confirming at least one of Kris’ suspicions.  “If anything about this reaches my father’s ears, I’ll know where to look for you.”  They left his cell, Yasin locking the door.  Their steps receded down the corridor, a door opened and shut and Kris was alone again, thoughts buzzing in his mind like a swarm of wasps.

He couldn’t stop wondering about the prince.  It was more than unusual for him to act behind his father’s back.  Kris couldn’t remember such a thing happening ever before.  And the prince’s face had been so remote, his eyes flat like those of a dead man.  As if Kris had killed him, and not Adam.  For the first time Kris felt something like remorse sneaking up on him.  It seemed like now, that his life was in pieces and he hadn’t anything left to lose, his conscience was coming alive once more.

It was hard, seeing the consequences of his actions in the light of day.  It was as if he had escaped from a dark fever dream in which he’d been caught for years.  In his inner eye he saw once more the hurt in Tommy’s face when he had called him a whore, saw once more Adam, crumbling down to the floor during dinner, body racked with cramps.

He saw Adam, how he’d approached Kris in the massage room, face full of compassion and sympathy.  He remembered how he had watched Adam and Tommy together, making love for the first time.  How his own heart had broken again when he had observed the tenderness between them, had watched them share something that had been cruelly ripped from him by the Sultan.  How he had hated and envied them.  Now, he could only feel sorrow for destroying such a thing of love and beauty.  No wonder the prince wanted to kill him.  That was what he deserved.  His life was over anyway.

 

~~~~~

 

Adam had spent most of the day sleeping his illness off.  Every time he woke up he ate and drank something and then promptly fell asleep again.  Now it was already evening and the prince hadn’t been back yet.  Adam had demolished a whole bowl of a creamy chicken soup with rice and felt considerably better, when suddenly his bedroom door opened and the prince appeared in the entranceway.

“Oh, hey,” Adam said, smiling.  “I was getting worried about you.  Have you seen him?”

The prince nodded, a guarded expression on his face.  “Yes, I have.”  He sat down on Adam’s bed, taking his hand and holding on to it tightly.  Already his composure started to crumble.  “God, Adam, I’m so angry and confused, and so fucking sorry.  I can’t even say how much.”  He sobbed, tears running down his face.

Adam lifted a hand and caressed Tommy’s face.  “Tell me,” he demanded, his voice low and quiet.  The prince leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment.  Then he took a deep breath and began.

“God, I’m glad you made me go look for him, Adam.  Even I didn’t want to, at first.  I really thought he deserved his punishment.  I mean, he could have killed you!  But then I saw him lying there, and he was such a mess.  His back in shreds from the whipping, his anus torn because that Sheikh raped him…  There was barely a place on his body that wasn’t hurt.  He was already half dead when I got there.”

“Oh my god,” whispered Adam, shocked to the core.  “What did you do, Tommy?  Did you help him?  Please tell me yes!”

The prince sobbed again.  “Help him?  Of course I did.  God, if you had seen him!  Be glad you didn’t!  I sent Yasin for a physician who has no connections to the court.  He patched Kris up and will be back in two days to check on him.  I bribed him heavily to keep him silent.  Kris might still die, but at least he isn’t in pain anymore.  Yasin will be looking after him.  He’s the only servant I can trust.”  He shook his head, wiping the tears away that kept on falling from eyes.  “God, I hope he doesn’t betray us!  I thought I could trust Kris, too, and I was wrong.  If my father hears about this, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

The prince sounded so desperate that Adam pulled him down to snuggle up close to him.  “I’m so glad you went down into those dungeons to help Kris.  I know it must have taken lots of courage to act against your father’s wishes, especially when you were so angry at Kris yourself.  I knew that your compassion would be stronger in the end.  And he deserves it, you know.”

Adam told Tommy about what he’d overheard in the massage room, that Kris wasn’t the Sultan’s favorite out of his own free will, or out of love, but because it had been the only way for him to survive.

When Adam was done talking the prince took a long moment to digest all that.  “Oh, Adam,” he said at last, “and I thought they loved each other!  How could I have been so blind and so stupid?  I even wanted the same for us!  I thought in the end you’d love me, too, but really, how could you in this situation?  How could anybody?”

He was really crying then, hiding his face in Adam’s neck.  Adam held him, stroking his back tenderly until the storm had passed.  When the prince looked up again, his eyes were still red, but the expression on his face determined and clear.

“You’re a captive here, too, just like Kris.  Just like him you aren’t safe here, not even with me, because my father is so much more powerful than me.  He only let me keep you on a whim, anyway, and he could take you away anytime, just to punish me.  Oh, God, Adam, it kills me, but…I’ve got no choice--I have to let you go.  As soon as you’re better I’m going to help you escape.”

God, how he had waited for these words!  Strangely, as Tommy was lying next to him, clinging to him like a drowning man, escape was suddenly the furthest thing on Adam’s mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Slowly, Kris was getting better.  Yasin looked after him, washed him, fed him, cleaned him up and changed his dressings.  But he rarely talked to him, and didn’t answer any of Kris’ questions.  After two days the physician was back to check up on him.  He declared that Kris’ back was beginning to heal, so it would suffice to change the dressings only once per day.  The fever was also gone, the IV-drips no longer necessary.  He left pain meds and antibiotics for a week and was led out by Yasin.

And Kris was alone again, alone with his desperation and his dark thoughts.  And with his fear, because even though he felt that he deserved everything he probably had coming, he was still afraid of the pain, and afraid to die.  But that was part of his punishment, he reasoned.

When he was alone, he often lay there crying for hours, unable to stop, losing himself in it.  It was during one of these bouts when he suddenly felt someone touching his hair, stroking it gently.  He froze at first; he hadn’t even heard anyone coming in.  When he hazarded a cautious look, he saw that it was the prince who was crouching by his pallet.

“No,” Kris rasped, shaking his head weakly, “don’t.  Don’t comfort me.  I don’t deserve it.”

The prince pulled his hand back, giving him a sad smile.  “Oh, Kris.  Don’t say things like that.  I had a long talk with Adam.  He explained--“

Kris blinked.  Something like a heatwave ran through his body, leaving him breathless and dizzy, on its heels a feeling of relief so immense he couldn’t even comprehend it.  “Adam?  When?  He’s not--“  He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Tommy looked at him steadily.  “He’s alive.”

“Oh, thank God.”  Kris buried his face in his hands, taking deep shuddering breaths.  .  “Oh God, I’m so glad,” he said in between sobs.  “I really thought I’d killed him!  I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had!”  It was as if tons of weight had been lifted from his heart.

“He’s quite well again,” the prince assured him.  “A bit weak, that’s all.  He’ll be fine in a few days, so stop beating yourself up about this.”

Kris shook his head.  “I can’t!  I tried to kill him!  Just imagine if I had succeeded!  And, God, I’ve been such a bastard to you!  Called you a whore, and him, too!”

“So that was you?  I should have known it.  Why the hell did you do that?  And why for God’s sake did you try to poison him?”

The prince didn’t sound angry, thought Kris, just like he really wanted to know.  He guessed he owed him the truth anyway, so he sat up slowly, wiping his eyes.  It was a struggle and every move hurt, but he wanted to see the prince’s face when he confessed.

“At first I was only afraid.  I felt threatened by him because he was so brave and fierce.  He treated you like you were the slave and he the prince, and still you were so lenient with him!  He was challenging everything, every belief that had been beaten into me, and it just made you fall in love with him, and I was so jealous.  I watched you that night—“  His voice broke.  He looked away, tears running down his face again.

“It’s okay,” Tommy said, “you can tell me.  Don’t be afraid, I won’t be angry.”  He sounded so calm and convincing that Kris found the strength to go on.

“So I watched you, from behind that hidden door.  He was so gentle, so loving, I couldn’t bear it.  Something inside me snapped at that moment.  And then, one day later, Adam overheard me complaining about how rough your father was with me, and I thought he was going to rat me out.  And so I did it.”  He reached for Tommy’s hand, clinging onto it like it was his lifeline.  “I know there’s no excuse for it.  Whatever you decide to do to me, I will bear it, and gladly."

“No, Kris,” Tommy said earnestly, “you will not.  Do you think I got you patched up only to take you apart again?  That I wanted you to get well, so I could punish you some more?”

“Well--,” Kris began, confused.  It seemed he still wasn’t thinking clearly.  The prince looked at him expectantly, which made it worse.  He didn’t want to disappoint him in any way.  Never again.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he whispered finally.  “I--, yes, I thought that that was what you wanted.  Punish me, I mean.  But now you’re here, and you don’t seem to hate me--“

He broke off, his voice going out on him.  He sank down on the pallet, overcome by his emotions once more.  He was still holding on to Tommy’s hand, and now the prince was caressing his hair again.

“You won’t be punished,” he said in a low voice.  “At least not by me.  I don’t know what my father’s plans are, but I’ll try to find out, so I can keep you safe.  It’s Adam’s wish as well.  So it’s important that you get better fast; we may have to get you out of here--not only out of this cell, or the palace, but out of the country.  If my father comes looking for you and realizes somebody helped you behind his back there may be hell to pay.”

Those last words the prince spoke almost to himself.  Kris realized that Tommy was afraid, too.  It made it even harder to believe that this was happening.

“Maybe it would be better if you didn’t help me,” Kris said hesitantly.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble just because of me.”

“God,” Tommy groaned, and then he leaned down toward Kris and hugged him tenderly.  It hurt some, of course, but at the same time the gentle touch felt so comforting that Kris didn’t even think about moving away.  Instead he burrowed deeper into the prince’s arms, pressing his face into the hollow between Tommy’s neck and shoulder, inhaling the soothing, familiar scent of the tangerine and rosemary fragrance the prince favored.  He didn’t dare to believe that there might be a way out of this hell, but for the first time in ages he allowed himself to feel comforted.  Like he and Tommy were two kids, hiding in the dark.

“You really think you’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Of course,” Tommy replied.  “You don’t need to worry on my account--I’m his son, the only heir--what can he do to me?”

Kris wasn’t so sure.  “He could marry again; get another heir to replace you.  He’s not that old.  I wouldn’t put it past him.  Whatever you do, Tommy, you need to be very careful.  You don’t know him like I do.  Your father can be absolutely ruthless.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tommy promised.  Sighing he got back up.  “I need to go now.  Yasin will be back to look after you.”  With one last look at Kris he exited the cell and left.

 

~~~~~

 

A few days later Adam was feeling a lot better; the weakness was completely gone and he only had to be careful about some foods.  When the prince entered his rooms he was sitting on the settee by the open balcony doors and looking outside, thinking about ways to escape and not coming up with much.  The prince sat down beside him and gave him a soft peck on the lips as a greeting.

Adam smiled.  “Hey, Tommy.  How is Kris?”

The prince was just in the middle of telling him when they heard a knock at the door.  He went to open it, and there was Adjani, grim-faced like he always was these days, bearing a present for Adam from the Sultan.

“The Sultan begs your forgiveness for the unfortunate event that came to pass.  He assures you that the assassin is being punished and asks you to accept this token of his benevolence,” Adjani declared, voice devoid of inflection.  He bowed sharply, put a package on the table and left.

“Unfortunate event?” quoted Adam, rolling his eyes.  He couldn’t believe the wording.

Tommy was shaking his head, too.  “That’s so not funny.  I wonder what he sent you.  Do you want me to open it for you?”

Adam nodded.  “Yes, please do.  I’m rather curious.”

Adam watched him tear the gift wrap and rip the package open.  Then the prince lifted something which seemed to be a tangle of slender golden chains and cuffs.

“Shit,” the prince breathed.  “What the hell is that?!”

“Something kinky, I’d say,” replied Adam.  “Come on, let’s try it out.  Will you put it on me?”

Tommy’s eyes shone.  “I’d love to!  You better stand up, though.”

At first the prince had a bit of a hard time figuring the harness out, but after a bit of try and error he managed.  There were cuffs for wrists and ankles and a collar for the neck, all connected by thin but sturdy golden chains.  They were adjustable, too, so you could put a man in every possible with them and hold him there.  Adam frowned, wondering what the Sultan’s intentions were, sending him that particular present.

Tommy’s touches on Adam’s body were light and careful, only a slight quickening of his breath betrayed how much he was affected by this.  Finally he clicked the last cuff shut and took a step back to admire his handiwork.  From the expression on his face, he liked it a lot.  His eyes were wide with awe.  “You are so beautiful, Adam,” he whispered.  “Like a jewel, caught in all these chains.  But damn, I--“  He broke off, blushing deeply.

“You want to get them off me and wear them yourself,” supplied Adam, a bit smug.

Tommy lowered his eyes for a second, but then flicked his smoldering gaze back at Adam.  “Yeah,” he admitted, “I’d love that.  Can I—?”

“Yeah,” said Adam, “take them.  I want to see you in them, too.  But lose the clothes first.”

Tommy complied, getting rid of his shirt and pants eagerly before taking the harness off Adam.  Now that he knew how it worked it didn’t take him long to chain himself up.  He knelt by the settee so that Adam could fasten the last cuff at his wrist.  Then he stood back up, facing Adam expectantly, eager to see his reaction.

Adam felt his heartbeat speed up.  He didn’t think he had ever before seen anyone looking so sexy and alluring.  It literally took his breath away.

“Come on,” he managed, leaning forward, his voice hoarse.  “I want to see you move in them.”

Turning around, Tommy slowly walked toward the door and back.  Adam’s eyes were riveted on the way his hips swayed with his movements, and it seemed the prince enjoyed it, too, if the erection bobbing in front of him was any indication.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and suck me off?” Adam suggested, smiling wickedly.

Tommy nearly stumbled.  “God, yes!  I’ve wanted to for so long!”

He practically fell to his knees, fumbling Adam’s hard-on out of his pants with trembling hands.  Hesitating a bit, he licked his lips nervously.  “You have to tell me how.  I’ve never done this before.”

Adam was unconcerned.  “Don’t worry, babe.  Just lick it like it’s a very tasty lollipop.  I’ve a feeling you’ll be a natural at this.”

It turned out his confidence in the prince was more than justified.  Tommy started out slowly, thoroughly licking Adam’s cock with long light swipes from root to tip, every now and then dipping into the slit, which never failed to make Adam hiss.  Tommy’s light touches drove him crazy, he wanted more, and harder, and faster, but the prince kept on with these feather light licks, ignoring all of Adam’s pleas, evading his bucking hips.

“Please,” Adam whined finally, when he could take it no more.  “Tommy, I’m dying here!  Please take me in and suck me good!”

Tommy smiled.  “Okay, love.  Since you’re still weak and you’re begging so nicely-–“

He dove down on Adam’s leaking cock, taking it deep until it hit the back of his throat and pulled back, sucking as hard as he could, while at the same time jacking with his hands what didn’t fit into his mouth.

“Yes!” Adam groaned, “like that!  More!”  Tommy’s mouth was so hot, his hands exerting just the right amount of pressure, and he loved it.  The prince’s face was shiny with spit and precome, the heavy golden chains jangling in sync with his moves.  It was too much too soon.

Taking over, Adam grabbed Tommy’s neck, holding him in place and started fucking his mouth urgently.  He felt the prince’s throat clench around him, probably he was gagging him, but at that moment he didn’t care, and anyway, Tommy never fought Adam’s grip.  The prince’s compliance was such a turn-on for him; it didn’t take long before Adam came in long spurts down his throat.  The prince moaned, his body going rigid for a moment, but then he swallowed around Adam’s thick length, taking everything Adam had to offer.  When he pulled off, his face was a total mess, but his eyes were shining.

“You nearly killed me here!” he gasped.  “Damn, when you pulled me in, I couldn’t even breathe anymore.”  He sank down on the settee, panting.  Adam felt the faint tremors running through Tommy’s body, and when he looked at him properly he noticed the come he was splattered with all over.

“Yeah,” Tommy said with a wry smile, following the direction of Adam’s glance.  “I fucking came when you did, without even touching myself.”

“Glad you liked it,” said Adam.  “Cause I sure as hell did, too.  I knew you’d be good at it.”

The prince grinned happily.  “And I was afraid I’d suck at this.”

“Well, you did, honey.”  Adam grinned, too.

“Yep.  I did.  I’m a born cock-sucker!  We absolutely have to do that again!”

“But not right now,” Adam said, not quite able to suppress a yawn.  “You’ve totally done me in, babe.  After all, I’m still recovering.”

Worn out, Adam moved over to his bed and lay down, sighing contently.  He felt tired, yes, but there was also that buzz he felt after really good sex.  From under half-closed lids he watched Tommy, still in chains, make his way to the bathroom.  When the prince emerged, clean again, he was still naked under the chains, looking even more like a love slave now with that sated expression on his face.

Adam’s cock gave an interested twitch at the sight.  Who would have thought the spoilt brat would turn out like this, he mused.  With his slender body, his talented dirty mouth and his taste for submission Tommy really was everything Adam had ever dreamt of.

As the prince now sauntered over to the bed and snuggled up beside him, his eyes full of love and desire, Adam’s heart broke a little at the thought that he would have to leave him one day.

“You know,” Tommy said, jangling the chains playfully, “I don’t think this is quite what my father had in mind when he sent you these.  Wonder just what he was thinking?”

“They’re very valuable, for one thing,” replied Adam, “but they’re still chains.  I don’t think they’re really meant as an apology.  Maybe they’re a warning, to remind me what I am: a prisoner kept in a golden cage.”

“That sounds a lot like him,” Tommy agreed.  “But you won’t be a prisoner for long now.  I’m going to get you both out of here, Kris and you.”

Adam closed his eyes.  “Do you already know when?” he asked haltingly, secretly hoping it wouldn’t be too soon.

Tommy shook his head.  “Depends,” he said.  “Rather sooner than later, though.  When someone comes looking for Kris and realizes what happened, we’re done for.”

Adam swallowed, his throat suddenly closing up.  “Can’t you come with us?” he asked, already fearing what the answer would be.

Tommy looked away.  “No.  It isn’t possible.  Believe me, I want to.  But the Sultan’s still my father.  I can’t do that to him.  I have a duty toward my country.”  Even though the prince sounded desolate there was a quiet strength in him Adam hadn’t seen before.  Suddenly he was absolutely sure that Tommy would be a far better ruler than the Sultan.

“Your people are lucky to have you,” he said.

That made Tommy smile, a small smile, but a real one.  “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Adam said, hugging him close.

In the end it was Adam who took the golden chains off Tommy, and in a way he found that just as exciting as watching the prince put them on.  They spent the night together in Adam’s bed, holding on to each other tightly, both already mourning the loss of something special, something beautiful which they had only just found.


	11. Chapter 11

Once again, Tommy had stolen away from him before it even got light outside.  While Adam understood that the prince didn’t want to be caught in his concubine’s bed he’d still have preferred it to wake up together and enjoy a long, leisurely good-morning blowjob and some cuddling.  He already missed Tommy’s presence in his bed, his warm, slender body that fit so perfectly against his own.  Sighing, he burrowed deeper into the warm mold where the prince had lain until half an hour ago, and tried to catch a whiff of the orangey scent he always wore.  When he found it, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off back to sleep.

He dreamed of the prince, of course, spread out under him wantonly in those golden chains and begging to be taken.  In his dream, he was just about to comply when he was awoken by a thumping noise at the door, and when he came to he was still humping the mattress.  There was a second knock and almost in the same moment Yasin entered.  Damn.

“Good morning, Adam,” greeted the servant.  “The prince asks you to join him for breakfast in the garden.  I’m to help you get ready.”  He looked at Adam expectantly.

“Your timing sucks,” Adam growled, rearranging the sheets so his hard-on would be less obvious.

Yasin didn’t even try to hide his grin.  “I’d give you five minutes, but the prince said it was urgent.”

Oh.  That sounded ominous.  What could possibly have happened in the short time since he had been gone?  It couldn’t have been more than one or two hours, Adam thought.  Maybe something was wrong with Kris?  Or maybe the Sultan had found them out?

Suddenly worried, Adam took a fast shower, let Yasin help him dress, no fancy stuff, just loose pants and a kaftan, and like always the golden bangle and the necklace with the teardrop-pendant Tommy had given him.

As Yasin and he hurried through the long, winding corridors, Adam felt something in his chest tighten, and he would have slowed down if Yasin hadn’t grabbed his hand and dragged him along.

The prince was already waiting for them by the bench in the far corner of the garden.  A table had been set up, and the typical breakfast of mocha, sweet pastry and fruits was laid out.  With the light morning breeze and the birds that were singing merrily it should have been peaceful, but somehow it all felt eerily unreal to Adam.  A look at Tommy’s face confirmed his worries.

The prince’s face was drawn, even paler than usual, his lovely brown eyes shadowy, dark holes.  His lips were pressed together tightly, and he was breathing fast.  Adam didn’t think he’d ever seen him so wound up.

“Adam, finally,” the prince exclaimed, pointing at the palm tree in whose shadow the table stood.  “Get behind the tree, there’s a ladder at the wall.  Hurry up!  There’s a helicopter coming for you.”

Ah.  What?  Not really managing to digest Tommy’s words, Adam stood and gaped.  In the distance he could hear a telltale whopping sound, coming closer fast.  A fucking helicopter?  Oh, God.  This was it.  He was leaving.  He would be free again.  Oh no.  He would be leaving Tommy.

“What about Kris?” he asked, trying to stall.

“Already on the other side.  Adjani carried him.  Adam, hurry!  You must go!  The guards will be here any minute!”  The prince looked frantic.

But Adam’s feet were like lead.  “Tommy, please,” he begged desperately, “Come with me.  I don’t want to lose you!”  He stretched his hand out, trying to grab Tommy’s hand to drag him closer, but the prince evaded him, stepping back.

“No!  I can’t!  I told you, I have to stay.  I’m not going to run!  Please, don’t make me--”

He broke off, voice drowned out by the helicopter that was hovering above them now.  Two men were lowered down on a rope and hoisted a wrapped bundle on a stretcher up into the aircraft.

“Adam, go!” Tommy screamed over the din, pushing him toward the wall.  “Please!  My father will kill you!  You have to go!  Please, for me!”

Tears streaming from his eyes, his heart breaking, Adam turned away and climbed the ladder until he was up, balancing on the wall.  The two men took his wrists and pulled him into the helicopter.  The door slid shut and seconds later they were up in the air and gyrating away.  Adam managed to get a last fleeting look at Tommy, who was standing there with Adjani and Yasin, his face turned up to the sky, and then they were gone.  All strength leaving him, Adam sank down to the metal floor, numbness spreading through his body.  He buried his face in his hands, not wanting to see or hear anything anymore.

He only realized that someone was crouching next to him when there suddenly was an arm around his shoulders.  “Adam.”  A female voice, choked with tears.

Slowly, he lifted his head, not daring to believe what his ears told him.  “Mom?!  Oh God, Mom!”  Shuddering, he leaned into her.  She tightened her arms around him, the one fixed point in a world that had spun out of control.  Conflicting feelings of loss and earth-shattering relief coursed through him, and suddenly he was crying, too, all his self-control gone.

“I’m so glad, Adam,” she said softly, when his sobs had quieted down.  “I thought I’d never see you again.  But then I received that email, telling me to get here fast and be ready.”

“An email?” Adam echoed.

“Yes, from a guy called Tommy.  Said he’d send a helicopter.  Don’t ask me how.  The pilot will take us to Bahrain; we’ve probably already crossed the border.  We’re going to land at the International Hospital, because of your injured friend.”

Only now did Adam look for Kris.  He found him, still lying on a stretcher.  He was clad in one of these horrid beige shifts, but around his neck something golden shimmered.  Adam remembered that chain from when he’d seen Kris in that massage room.  Remembered the tag, which bore the fucking Sultan’s sigil.  Back then Adam just had thought it was ostentatious.  Now, the mere sight of it made him want to rip it off Kris’ neck.  A nurse was at Kris’ side, fussing over him, so Adam couldn’t see his face, but at the moment he didn’t feel any desire to, either.

“He’s not my friend,” he said to his mother.  She looked a bit surprised at his words, but didn’t question him.

He couldn’t help thinking that, if not for the other man, he could still be with Tommy.  Sure, he’d wanted his freedom, but not now, not like this.  Damn it all, they hadn’t even had time to say goodbye properly.  They hadn’t even kissed.  Looking down, his eyes fell on his teardrop-pendant.  How terribly appropriate it seemed now--like it had when he’d received it.  He thought of the night when they had made love for the first time and he couldn’t bear it.  Couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing Tommy again.  Why, oh why, hadn’t the prince come with him?  Why had he chosen a life of oppressive duty, a life in which he never could be himself, over Adam?

He cast another dark glance in Kris’ direction, mixed feelings of resentment and compassion warring in his heart.  His life had been destroyed in a much more terrible way than Adam’s.  There was no telling how deeply his years in slavery would affect him, or if he would be able to deal with them at all.  Still.

“He’s not my friend,” he repeated, more quietly, and his mother, regarding him intently for a moment, nodded in understanding and took his hand.

At the hospital he barely managed to wait until Kris was admitted.  He had only one wish: He wanted to go home and hide from the world.  Maybe try to come to terms with what happened.  He couldn’t think any further than that.

They took a taxi to the hotel his mother was staying at, went to the American embassy to get provisory papers, and the next afternoon found them on a flight back to LA.

 

~~~~~

 

In the palace garden all hell had broken loose.  Tommy found himself in the middle of a group of almost panicky guards who were shouting madly and running to and fro in total confusion.  The helicopter was long since gone, taking Kris and Adam away, together with a major part of Tommy’s heart.  There was a hole gaping in his chest he was sure never was going to be filled again.  Thankfully, Yasin and Adjani had managed to escape back into the palace unseen, so he didn’t have to worry about them.  Right now he wanted to escape somewhere, too.  But he couldn’t.  His time to hesitate was through.

He drew himself up.  “Silence!” he bellowed.

The noise died down, as the guards came to attention way too slowly.  They weren’t accustomed to that tone from him.  Some were even trying to hide their grins, and failing.  That would have to change, he thought.

“Don’t stand there gawping.  Back on your posts!” he ordered.  “There’s nothing to see here.”  Not anymore, anyway.

In a short while the garden was silent again; and only then did Tommy allow himself to break down, silently but completely.  God, it had been a close thing, in more ways than one.  He almost, almost hadn’t been able to do it, almost hadn’t been able to let Adam go.  Only realizing how much he would hate himself if he didn’t go through with it had enabled him to act, in the end.

He had made a promise to himself when he had realized how broken Kris had been by a life in slavery.  He hadn’t wanted Adam to end up like that, or even worse.  Because would never have given in like Kris.  He probably would have killed himself, or would have been killed by the Sultan.  Letting him go had been the right thing to do; Tommy knew that.

Only, that certainty didn’t seem to help him much now.  He was alone again, his life stretching out before him like an endless desert without even one drop of water, all his hopes and dreams dead.  Adam was gone, never to return.  He’d lost him forever.  But he hadn’t lost love, and no one could take away from him what had transpired between them.  It was a part of him and it would always be.

Painfully, he pulled himself together and turned around and headed back into the palace, his heart aching, but determined.  Feeling surer with every step, he took the well-known way to his father’s throne chamber, where very probably an emergency meeting would be taking place very soon.  Time to face the music, he thought, smiling grimly.  His future seemed dark at the moment, but at least he would be the one shaping it from now on, and not his father.  Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the end of the first story arch and I want to take the opportunity to thank everybody who made it here, especially those who left kudos or comments! I already knew this was an awesome fandom, but I'm still completely overwhelmed by how nice everyone has been to a newcomer and absolute amateur like me. THANK YOU! This story will be continued in the sequel "Lost Princes", but I'll need a few days.


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